May 2008

by John Grey
Wind ripples lake surface.
Trees splinter.
Clouds crumple.
Faces fold up like accordions.
No reflection is safe.
Blogged with the Flock Browser

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by Harold G Grimes III
Remember when everyone was young?
And we would sit there
Saying how stupid they were?
Remember how we had so much fun?
And now we just sit here
Saying how stupid we were?
Remember how you said
With love we would live forever?
It was a lie and now I suffer.
I am alone and now I suffer.

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by Margarita Engle
Motionless
in the forest
I watch
a raven’s flight
gunshots too close
must I explain
my own stillness
to wayward hunters?

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by Michael Constantine McConnell
I remember the beginning,
when winged night led
his mistress to Gomorrah,
where they would prosper
and raise a family
of bratty little sinners.
We once discussed such
things over breakfasts,
and flowers stemmed
from our words, hung
in the air like kites.
Then the wind lost

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by Eric Lochridge
Stiff feathers
lifted from
a hard frost –
the wing flaps
in the boy’s
pinkish hands,
a hinge that
will not creak
anymore

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