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Red
—Nick Butterfield Love Is not The Color Red. Nor Does it Reside Inside Your Head. Will Only Show When The Heart Is Bled. Love Is not Made In side the covers of a Bed.. Will Not Lie Or be Misled.. Will...
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Elective Invective (and others)
— Blaine Burgstrom Blackbird touches down in a field of snowy white Still, half the Nation frowns Wake up, little cub Arise, Awake from the nap you take Wake up you sleepy-head There’s fish to catch...
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Exiled by Poetic Means
— Barbara Tinsley What do I know of poetry? Why bother to ask at all? It picks me up Without my comprehension; then pushes, rather, hurls me out through corridors tall of bright white light and glass—...
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Bloom
— Tiffany Galicia Little Abby, little Sally, Stay safe, my darling dears. I love you so, but you must go Explore Away from here. So down a little path That curves this way and that Skip the two little...
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Redwood Glade
— Casey FitzSimons No longer wild, this redwood glade cordoned off in public trust. None here just now, but trails are laid. Their dust weighs down what thrived in shade; like grace, it coats...
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