Presence 69
morning zoom
a trace of sleet
in his smile
— Dyana Basist
only in spring
I see a way
out of the wood
— Tim Gardiner
passing clouds
we have become
the elders
— Gary Hittmeyer
winter fields …
it’s not always
the things you’ve done wrong
that people hold
against you
— Marshall Bood
autumn
willows by the river
dip into the mist
& touch
the invisible
— A A Marcoff
Separated at Birth
A plastic Humpty Dumpty sits on a low wall. I lift myself on the one opposite. Humpty Dumpty has a look of my father. But his sea green irises would look out of place on this man-made counterpart, whose orbs match his brilliant coat festooned with gold buttons. Still, they share the same rotund shape, knowing grin and bald head. I wonder if Humpty Dumpty also likes cocoa laced with whiskey for breakfast, dry martinis for lunch, red wine with dinner, a brandy nightcap. I search painted blue eyes and see my answer. Slowly I slide off the wall
garden compost
birds gather
what’s left
— Roberta Beary