Poetry - Year V - Number 29 - October 2019

    FOUR POEMS by John Casey

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    Perfect Day Leaves dancing, rustlingDelicately caressedBy the soft breezeA whispered wind song Patches of sun, dartingBreak through branchesCascade and collideIn prismatic collageOn the forest floor Nestled in shadeMossed rocks, mushroomsAnd unfurled fernsScattered at randomAlong my earthen path I...

    SUNDAY AFTERNOON by Stuart Rawlinson

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    SUNDAY AFTERNOON by Stuart Rawlinson  Commutations The morning commute begins on the hourAs nighttime and daylight adjoin in friction.Buses interrupt as I squint for my number;Balanced and hovering on the kerb’s edgeIn front of staring commuters like...

    WILLOW AND BARK by Sally Sandler

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    WILLOW AND BARK by Sally Sandler  Somedays I Am That Cypress                                                                                 The past has all blown east.The Monterey cypress felt it leavein the teeth of a Pacific sea squall.Ever since, the cypress has leaned easttoward the...

    THE TROP by David Somerset

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    THE TROP by David Somerset   The Trop          The game drones on.The Trop is a “pinball game”  baseball field, named after orange juice.A hit ball striking one catwalk is a double.If it hits another, then its a...

    RETURN by Angela Shepherd

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    RETURN by Angela Shepherd Return You came to me as I took my first breath, the spirit which filled my lungs and energized my beginning with grace.  My life dependent on your presence, inspired by your mystery,...

    FOCUS by Antonio Rios

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    FOCUS by Antonio Rios  NOVEMBER 17, 2010 Clouds slowly rolled across the sky overhead.A heavyset man sold hotdogs at the street corner.Three young children played on a swing set.The leaves fell from the trees steadily,a soft snip when they...

    SCAVENGERS by Hank Kalet

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    SCAVENGERS by Hank Kalet Father Becomes the Son He says he should justhave a heart attack. Done. And whenI reprimand, I feel the embersof past fires burningin my gut. At eighty,he’s earned his self-obsession, but pityis not...

    MULTIPURPOSE by Robert Travis Hicks

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    MULTIPURPOSE by Robert Travis Hicks  The Gallows Head hung, haunted by hoary whispersA time before the milk curdledBefore you leftBefore the mirror met meAnd explained better than anyone ever couldthe depths of my inadequacy. Morning comes, I lie...