dog leaning over
       the edge of the dock    as the ferry
            fades into mist

— Keith J. Coleman

with summer gone
I write about
snow

— Nika

try again
and fail better
autumn leaves

— Ernest Wit

Broken Spells

They are common to all of us. Fleeting moments of no particular consequence we wish would last forever. But the sun finally sets, the cat tires of sitting on a knee and goes her own way, a favourite piece of music slowly comes to an end. We sigh, shake our heads, and get on with the next thing to be done.

fading tapestry …
a few silver threads
still catch the sun

— Susan King