Skip to content

Log Out

×

Eve

By Amy Bornman Poetry

The first pregnancy: “my belly growing big, for what? / no one can tell me what’s going on. / nausea I don’t understand, weeping / for hormones with no name.

Read More

Venetian Villanelle

By Robert McNamara Poetry

She is a mother first—in every church she lights a candle for her harrowed son. One already lit supplies the match. Today San Stefano, above her stretched a heaven of dark keel vaulting. Here an icon, Byzantine, true presence in the church of the second Eve, the mother she beseeches. She gives a euro to…

Read More

Receive ImageUpdate, our free weekly newsletter featuring the best from Image and the world of arts & faith

* indicates required