Vol. I · No. 24 · The Weekly Issue · From Key West to the Panhandle
The FloridianReporting, fiction, criticism, poetry, and cartoons — from the peninsula
Poetry · Poem
A brief meditation on the closing of evening over Boca Ciega Bay.
The ceiling fan spins its heavy blade, a slow propeller slicing through the wet, unmoving air of June.
Beyond the screen, the lizards trace the grey concrete, while pool-lights throw a pale turquoise upon the palm.
We watch the light dissolve itself into the salt-marsh and the mud, where crabs retract their claws and wait.
Poem
A short poem on kitchens, ceiling fans, and afternoon forecasts.
Poem
A short poem for the hour that is not quite an hour.
Poem
Twelve lines, one long apology, one ceiling fan still spinning.
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