In the lore of Greek myths, naiad Pirene was grief-stricken by the death of her son, Cenchrias. She dissolved into a fountain of tears outside the gates of Corinth. It was said the essence of a naiad was tied to her spring; she could no longer exist if the spring dried up, as is often the case with inspiration and poetry. Pirene’s fountain was one of three springs associated with Pegasus, and was sacred to the muses, who drank of the waters for fresh inspiration. At Pirene’s Fountain, it is our hope that we can share of each other’s knowledge, and in the spirit of Ancora Imparo –“ I am still learning,” open our hearts and minds to inspiration. Poetry distills the essence of an emotion, a narrative focal point or a scattering of elusive ideas, much like art or photography. Adrian Pacurar shares his photographic talent throughout this issue and speaks about art photography and the connection between poetry and photography in an interview which features more of his work. Enjoy his photographs below as you read the poems by our featured poets, CJ Sage and Scott Owens.   The Slip Inside a heart’s thunderstorm are abandoned railroad tracks— the trestle between them and the thin bridge:  salted with rust the fog facilitated. And then:  a mesh of creeping vines.  Then, an upright softening through which songbirds flee, calling to the other, and squirrels holding steadfast to their nests. When the quiet finally comes, every lightning flash illumes the passing. CJ Sage Nomenclature Adam used the easy adjectives or none at all. The manatee he left as manatee; the whale he called blue.  It was Eve who saw to the heart of things, heard the dove’s mourning, called the spider, recluse, noticed the muteness of swans. Old Moses left that part out. Only one with knowledge of forbidden fruit, familiar with life as other, could imagine those called hellbender and hellgrammite, nightcrawler or man-of-war. Scott Owens From: Something Knows the Moment. Main Street Rag, 2011