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Lee Rossi lives in Los Angeles and is the author of the poetry collection Ghost Diary (Terrapin Press). Having never successfully learned a foreign language, he is leaving his programming job to join his five-year-old son Leo in a local Japanese-immersion kindergarten.
Like pilgrims visiting the tombs of saints, / smoky hands of angels on our shoulders, / we wandered the medieval city, stone churches / and tall half-timbered houses leaning over / narrow streets.
January 2015Childhood, the first eternity, / as I wandered our vast acre, / trying to escape the sun.
March 2014I watch my son high in the magnolia / where branches thin. His sister / at the foot of the tree shrieks for him / to come down and play with her.
January 2013I take my son into the dusk, / under trees still heavy / with the season’s first rain. / We watch as the entire / face of the moon darkens, / like a child with a bad cold.
January 2006Has something we published moved you? Fired you up? Did we miss the mark? We’d love to hear about it.
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