Paul Hostovsky
Love Letter to Carl Sandburg
I’m sipping my tea on the ground floor
of the Federal Reserve Building,
a handful of suits at the table behind me
talking about profit margins, inventories,
low hanging fruit, when I notice this little girl
on the sidewalk outside the window,
conducting the wind with her tiny hands,
the autumn wind, which is counting its money
and throwing it away, counting its money
and throwing it away—a whirlwind of dancing leaves
going up and around and around in the wind tunnel
that this tall building I’m sitting in has created
with the other tall buildings. And as though
she had created it, she conducts it, shapes it,
urges it with her twirling hands
to keep counting its money and throwing it away,
counting its money and throwing it away
in front of the Federal Reserve, where now I see
her mother waiting at the curb with a big
suitcase and a little suitcase, texting,
scanning the intersection for their ride-share,
not looking at the girl or the swirling leaves,
looking only at her phone, and the endless line of cars,
searching for the one that’s theirs. And when it pulls up
on the opposite side of Atlantic Avenue
she waves to the girl to come—now—hurry!
And the girl waves goodbye to the symphony of leaves
that goes on playing and dancing without her
as she pulls the little suitcase behind the mother
who is pulling the big suitcase toward the waiting car.
And I can almost feel you here, right beside me,
seeing what I’m seeing, wanting what I’m wanting:
to write it all down, not for the suits at the table behind us,
still talking about expenditures and revenues,
but for the wind that goes on counting its money
and throwing it away on Atlantic Avenue.
Sherif Abdelkarim
Kaveh Bassiri
Mark Belair
Lena Blackmon
Jonathan Bracker
Mark S. Burrows
Benjamin Cutler
William Fargason
Robert Gibb
Lise Goett
Sarah Gridley
Michael Hettich
Dennis Hinrichsen
Paul Hostovsky
Chloe Jackson
Roxane Beth Johnson
Irène Mathieu
SAID
Maggie Smith
J.R. Solonche
Noah Stetzer
Susan Tichy
Kathleen Weaver
Jane Wong