The rocks were caught by child’s eye, and changed with the sunset into horns and antennae, goring and grinding, and going off. Bumped into the night. ________________________________________________________________________ You can find more of A. J. Huffman’s work here, here and here.
Flamingos frolic in the surfless still of the sea side morning’s pastoral. Limbs and feathers paint a fantastical fan, this stretching before the sun. The water dopples, dolloped with pink reflections. A mirror ed magic, reflexive of another dimension. Alien in pastel tones of aggressive softness, they adamantly defend their rights to this dance. _____________________________________________________________________ [...]
The lavender sky turns. Soundless. Its silvered breath falls, sliding slowly over veined silk. The tiny bud ruptures. Bending backwards (in time) it beads the ground with miniscule reflections, iridescent images bursting the same ideal: a perfect mirror of every dawn’s bloom. ____________________________________________________________________________________________ A.J. Huffman is a poet and freelance writer in Daytona Beach, Florida. [...]
In Spring the gardener finds out death– What fruit tree limbs did not overwinter. Some stems twig and bud and bloom, Some stems splinter. I lost a limb some seasons back From my own flesh–my firstborn daughter. Time healed the break, but I still lack The apples of her laughter. __________________________________________________ Adam Greenwood lives with [...]
Space exhaled a puff of air. Caught in its stream pathless terrene thought it well to cleave a fresh path form a new road unzip the miles-thin protective layer. Aeriform meteoric hand punched through. Glass jugs exploded in a cosmic grand plie windows shattered crystalline light show creation’s crumble celestial chaff in its random wind. [...]
Let no man beguile you of your reward in a voluntary humility and worshipping of angels – Colossians 2:18 She thinks I am praying to her Kneeling before her Extending my hands to her Her Egyptian ancestors earned their worship Guarding food from mice, fighting cobras Giving shape to perfume and ointment jars Instead she [...]
Heart-iest thanks to participants who contributed to our sometimes sweet, sometimes bittersweet, sometimes citric Love of Nature Nature of Love Month. The list includes: Sue Halvorsen Merrijane Rice Ali Znaidi Scott Hales Enoch Thompson Lee Allred Theric Jepson Karen Kelsay Sarah Dunster Percival P. Pennywhistle Quite a spectrum to love this time around. Thank you [...]
God filled the earth with tigers; men and beasts warring for blood. He painted them with warning signs—what scarlet spots! In God we do not doubt. God filled the earth with tigers. The Father blessed his daughters in the order of His good Son, that we might all know good and evil. And still we [...]
We slumber heavy in the night so long as hills are bare and white, and what is real, is pressing. What can you do but answer. What can you do but take my jaw in hand and answer. And what can I, but know you while night visions press us, hot in our down blanket. [...]
I sensed her by the fallow deer that fed upon the oak leaves near the sea, and then around the flooded estuary bed where egrets hid between large willows. When a heron waded through the narrow pond and mingled with the geese, I almost saw her cherry lips flash like a regal wand, or damselfly, [...]