Table of Contents
Verses Lost
by Vivian Cassina
Words of verse, like antelope
Startle at impatience
Then disappear into the underbrush of thought
Leaving white tales waving in the distance
Never to be seen again
Copyright 2000 by Vivian Cassina. (PoemsbyViv@aol.com).
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
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Summer Sleeps
by Keith Hipharp1
Rolling over in a bed of dry, hot cracked, earth.
Solstice begins Summer yawns on long shadows.
Colorful regalia replace green foliage spent, exhausted.
Summer now lays down its sleepy head and blinks and winks.
Auburn oaks and red sugar maples lean toward the frost of
a late October moon and bend low for winters harvest.
Yellow Birch enhance Summers dream in florescent reflection.
Lay your head to sleep now Summer and hasten in the dawn.
For once the cold of winter bites the frost on pumpkins croon.
and wrinkle dire in their unharvested, lonely frowning womb.
Summer sleeps a restless night, abates an early twilight,
and gives us one more kiss and says his prayers .
Before Winter rises in her silver, Selenite raiment
to be waxed and waned by the moons ochre yellow penchant pillow.
That will carry Summers dreams until awaken on Springs warmth.
Summer yawns,stretches and lays gently, exhausted to sleep.
Copyright 2000 by Keith Hipharp1. (HIPHARP1@aol.com).
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
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Visions
by Joey Adami
Gas lamps and London
from towers that soar the sky
for the cobble lined path that caught my eye
please Sir, can u tell me where the market is
where my lover sighted a mirror that reflected this
"Enchanted wonder and grins that speak
for all to ponder and one to seek
to see your face as you know
for the shadows to flash
from visions ago"
Copyright 2000 by Joey Adami (MidNightAloha@aol.com).
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
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For some unknown, distant reason in my vacant mood - withdrew
a book of poems by Loren Eiseley, had once or twice read through;
at random opened, to re-read 'Timberline' - was then I said to self
I must not forget Loren Eiseley, for many of his books line my shelf.
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But indeed I had. This past year has worn me beyond scientific reads
he with others have lain unread through this past year - finally to now have fled;
tonight, for reasons untraceable, his writings and person birthed theirpleads
all rhymed above was done by me tonight, with that poem of his havejust read.
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For the likes of his should not be forgotten by me, for his mind andmine
seem to burn the same fuel - for casts its light into similar channels;
a hunter, a searcher, asker, quester among the past, of Space and Time
seeking knowledge of cause, of purpose with equal aims - mid Nature'sannals.
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There find the why of all, and what is self-sensed or Spirit-wise
a hunger always unfed, perhaps never be fully sated;
an eternal lure - know of purposed whys behind life's disguise
gather from its wealth - of love, of God, and beyond death what isfated.
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Loren and I have never met in person, only upon his pages
whereon find his mind keen for knowing those likes I equally parry;
a search first begun a hundred-thousand years ago in the ice ages
when first Hominids began to glimmer with glint, beyond being wary.
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Down through evolution's trail, unto the present ages we now wear
only but know, to grasp some understanding - somehow to quiz the why;
his writings show that him and I as same-kindred-kindled, plead thesame prayer
til my mind should run rum, thereafter Spirit-lofted when I shoulddie.
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For I have been blessed to have read his books; are for me among thebetter choices.
Best said of him by Howard Nemerov - 'his is one of our necessary voices'.
Letter to the Editor: Cherie Staples (skyearth1@aol.com).