by Nancy Machlis Rechtman She feels her way through the dappled landscapeCradling the memories of a time when it was filled with lightAnd hopeAnd dreamsInstead of this endless echo chamberOf lonelinessWhere she now resides. The sun has yielded to the moon’s prowessSinking slowly across the Western skyBut this is no…
by Twixt A pattern is argyled on the surface of the highland stream, on the trouts’ flank-flash, on the pebbled, fundamental bottom. In its back-drift wake picture-perfects snake.
by Twixt And the wind blows, and reblows what was blown, and well-felt featly dealt rains are arraigned, a blank bank of souffled clouds appears drained, perky percolations gradually pool.