Index by Author

The John Edward Johnson Prize, Winter 2018
Lawrence Rhu
...and he shall rise up at the voice of the bird,
and all the daughters of music shall be brought low.
—Koheleth 12:4
Koheleth’s words first caught
my ear in ninth-grade English.
You pictured how dawn’s chirping
birds disturb light-sleeping

seniors and ignited
my imagination. Though now
always turns to then,
your gloss remains a present

moment, ’Remember now
your Creator in the days
of your youth.’ Planes roar
above my sublet quarters

near the terminal.
An old bird up early,
I con your versions
of Koheleth’s verses.

Such news, so clearly heard,
renews its claim. Despite
the noise of silver birds,
the life of words has kept

us friends since freshman year.
When clicked, a pixilated
paper clip brings you these lines
online, my breaking news.

©2018 Lawrence Rhu