Night

Writing

Solemnity

By Barbara Matijevic

In the evenings, 
  Following sundown
     I observed you
        However,
            I never saw you


Night in July

By Abigail Swanson

The fountain reflects light
onto the face of the library downtown.
We went there once, a long time ago.
It still glows.

Took note of the swept-out aisles
in the wavering light that shines through the windows.
So empty, so quiet.
A volume fallen down in Biographies.