The Neighbors
They are an open
window
with a pink sheet
for a curtain.
Trying to see inside the house
is like staring
at the slit
of a small shell—
smooth pale walls.
There are
Elizabeth McMunn-Tetangco
Elizabeth McMunn-Tetangco’s work has appeared in or is forthcoming from <i>The Curator</i>, <i>decomP</i>, <i>Right Hand Pointing</i>,<i> Star 82 Review</i>, <i>The Mas Tequila Review</i>, <i>Word Rio
Morning Sky
We couldn’t tell when it would happen.
The sky would tap
The windows, pink as fingertips.
An accident of clouds and light, as
Cold as thinning air.
It wasn’t anything
That
Red Shirt
The streetlight, white as copy paper,
tilts between the tree’s big arms,
slides out like spilled wine:
I think it is the moon for twenty
minutes. Above us, stars are marking steps