the rotary dial

best new poetry in form

Weeds are not supposed to grow
but by degrees
some achieve a flower, although
no one sees.

From the October Issue


Sunny Day

And as the sand became a path I knew
from years before, and running children splashed
my past along the shore, I walked and grew
to who I was – the spreading smiles I passed
a tide that led me in the August sun.
And a new current called me out to swim
and let the waves tell me my day was done
as floating on my back I heard the hymn
of each wave washing off my wrinkled skin
to where with sea-born wings I would begin.


James Miller’s most recent publications have been in Time of Singing, The Dark Horse, and The Lyric.