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  • Robert L. Giron

Issue 52 — Susan Kerr, Samantha Magrath

Susan Kerr

—Narrow Walkway, photo by Susan Kerr.

[I’ll lay in the field with him one day, and we’ll act like]

I’ll lay in the field with him one day, and we’ll act like

we don’t have a care in the world. We’ll laugh and lay

in green, green grass and wish for nothing more.

Breezes will caress our memories, and sunlight and blue,

blue skies will expand our reach towards today’s

romance and all things lovely. I’ll revel in my dimples.

His, too, and the glint in his eyes’ twinkling. All will be

well and wonderful and grand for we will want each

other for abundance, not for pain or pity. We’ll be and

hope and wonder. We’ll remember our yesterday’s

lightly, glancing back to catch only the smiles. We’ll just

be and lay in the sunny, warm grassy field, and let the

sun kiss us all over and over and over again.


Copyright © 2010 by Susan Kerr.

Classic Gondola shot, photo by Susan Kerr.

Incredible Venice 1, photo by Susan Kerr.


Susan Kerr is a poet, artist, and entrepreneur living in Old Town Alexandria with frequent visits to Venice, Italy. Her work has appeared in her small collection of poetry called Little Ones as well as at OpenView Labs book called What Really Matters: A Guide to Defining and Realizing Your Company Aspirations with an introduction by Tony Hsieh.

She is currently writing a small book called V sharing her love of Venice, Italy, expected out this summer. She'd love to hear from you:

Visit this author's homepage at

E-mail this author at

Samantha Magrath

Nominated for a 2012 Pushcart Prize

a nun and a witch

“you’ll never meet a better man than me”

another one aims the same hex at my back

the first to curse me was right

it all devolved from him, crooked adam

so I will become

a nun and a witch

doubly beyond their reach

bridal in billowing black

taking my shadowed vows

under the dogwood and the ash

out in the open in my witch’s habit

unearthing roots, poaching a rabbit

I have no need of you

won’t take heed of you

I will be murmuring over beads,

ring around the rosary

in the cathedral, candles glimmer my spells,

none of which will be love charms

the wives will beg my prayers;

what strange milk your cow will give

I will fly, I will fly!

wild-haired under a wimple

no man will know what to make of me

with my ruler and my broom

cloistered with a clutter of cats

whistling hymns at midnight

a censer full of bitter herbs

ringing out an intoxicating cloud

I will take

a saint’s name and a sinner’s name

I have scorned your salary,

disowned your endowment

accepted the scholarship

to the divinity school of the ditch

my beloved fatherless daughter

grows up to be the village bitch

and I will come before you

and I will come after you

oh I will be whole all on my own

when I am a nun and a witch.

Copyright © 2012 by Samantha Magrath.


Samantha Magrath is a poet living in Takoma Park, MD. Her work has appeared in literary journals including Antietam, Bogg, Chiron Review, Connecticut River Review, and The Cape Rock.

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