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Grey Sparrow Journal

Issue 30, July 31, 2017
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EASTER RABBIT


Five Micros

 

by Joseph Young






80
 


With 400 miles of farmland they seemed forever resting under one tree or another. They showed each other things from their pockets, pointed to the cows sleeping in the dust. Of it all, it was her small shirt he loved the most.











East-Eden

 

She worked equations—the body mass of athletes, ice skaters—her pencils blackening the pages. Through this, he dealt his cards. Hearts! he yelled, in the kitchen, to whichever neighbor or song might be playing.















Grand 
 


The earth broke and they stood looking, the soaring backs of the crows. He thought he might drop a penny, have them carry it over the desert like a red egg. She thought she might drop herself, wind sliding up her skirt like a friend’s hand.



[Pushcart Nomination]







At
L
ast
 
He chalked the walls, plumbing it square and blued. Finished, it was a spider making to the eye. They watched movies there, remembered themselves across the atlas of synapses.














Fault

He saw her at the crumbled line of spring, the quaver-headed jonquil in their bed. She smelled of paperwhite and tan. They posted Caution to protect her beauty, signed the plot, the vows, the earth-moving machines.