African Soundscape
If you see yourself as a stone—
one of volcanic origin
cleaved from cliff, catapulted
to valley floor, rusty chunk
amid grasses, sunk
in the mud of the Maasai Mara—
if you see yourself as that Kenyan basalt,
you will be able to hear, distinctly,
trumpet and roar,
tree snap and bone crack,
sky thunder and earth tremor,
and the word of man for fear.
About the author
Karla Linn Merrifield has had 900+ poems appear in dozens of journals and anthologies, with 14 books to her credit. Following Psyche’s Scroll (Poetry…
Read the full bioIssue 21 · October 2014
Table of contents
- From the editors
- Poetry
- Romance
- Aubade in Transit
- Igbo Directions in Amsterdam
- Santé
- on a wrought iron bench in Bristol
- Two poems by Jane Kirwan
- Amaszonas, S.A.
- African Soundscape
- Byzantium at the Bus Stop; Byzantium at the Mall
- The Fields of May
- Two poems by Bill Yake
- Two poems by Mike Puican
- High Jumping Silver
- Ocean Point
- the ground unfurls
- Three poems by Athena Kildegaard
- Postcard Prose
- Travel Notes