Varnish, Flecks of prom dress, Pine needles, gun powder, book bindings, PCBs, celery stalks, and rabbit fur Hashed Into the haze we breathe That dyes The rising sun, A neon tangerine.
Impertinently knocking on death’s door riding the rafts of fantasy darting as night melds with day between the darkness and the light The youngest and most gleeful among us tear through the quiet streets a tumble of magpies, a jabber of blackbirds, rapt and wrapped in fabrics diaphonous, wooly, or diabolical playing gap-toothed grinning tag […]
In wistful September We descend From summer’s summit of light To the dreadful balance Of the precarious Equinox. From there we catch the zip-line Into the sway of night. Mary Susan Gast is a member of Benicia’s First Tuesday Poetry Group
August is big time. Meteors streak the heavens, Illuminating Our own space travel, Through the cosmos. Crickets string iridescent beads of song in the stillness. Marvelous Cygnus stretches overhead, Soaring, Amid the spiraling delicacy of pastel nebulae. Bright Vega, Modestly hugging the horizon just weeks ago, Now strides To the pinnacle Of the firmament. Timeless […]
“So, I may have been wrong after all – this damn cancer may indeed be the death of me.” -Joel Fallon, in an email of June 30, 2016 He died on the morning of August 11. That night, meteor showers dazzled the skies: The Perseids, at their peak. No reason to doubt that Joel hitched […]
It was the voice AND what he said That echo, that linger. The voice all deep and ready To use words honed to the point Of decisive descriptive endurance. He beckoned mismatched images to Sidle up to one another: Spaghetti and spaghetti straps, A golden owl and a bound foot, Key lime pie and [oh […]