"... an awe that’s part
fear—the sharp blue shadows
of cliffs bleaching us to smallness,
to silence. "
Check out Theresa Monteiro's "Dear Fernando, November" in the current issue of Bracken: www.brackenmagazine.com/issue-xiv/de...
Define the sublime? In the books
we’re told to read here,
poets say: guava skies,
mountains of paradox
