search instagram arrow-down


best of HDtS editor's notes fiction interviews nonfiction poetry reviews

Archives by date

Archives by theme

You listen the way this stone
senses when its prey
no longer has a pulse

and swallows it whole
though your ears work like that
widen for the embrace

and quiet that afternoon
still wandering the Earth
as rain and those pebbles

a child finds on the beach
–one by one tossed at the sun
or something in between

taking so long to die –what you hear
is losing its breath
is crumbling and in your arms.


Simon Perch’s poetry has appeared in Partisan Review, The Nation, The New Yorker and elsewhere. He resides in East Hampton, NY.

© 2016, Simon Perchik

Leave a Reply
Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: