By Keith Burton i was stretching my legs on the littoralgiving names to the shapes of the cloudsthat swam across the lake’s reflectionwhen trouble came crawling on eight legs. help me across he asked with a period. i knew better; i had an owl’s acuity.no can do, i know you…
By Dawnell Harrison Her maiden mouth Grieved like the red Petals of a rose – Velvety and tender In her bowl Full of wounds.
By Dawnell Harrison The shrouded veil of clouds Lingers like ghosts In a graveyard as the vexing Moon shines her shattered Light to the ground – A kaleidoscope of golds Filter down from the yellow Moon in waves.