Page 8 - Contrast1975

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Upon Losing a Necklace in the Leaves on the Lawn of

Clark University and the Death of the Last Bee

Warm

Spread

butterlike sun

on toast

leaves, nature she

is losing feathers
fast.

Feed me pomegranate
fate seeds to

make me come

again, and for women

mourning the loss of their daughters
Indian Summer:

soft-walking I accept

the plurality I am, except
weare

seeing mirrors

in mirrors in mirrors

in our eyes. in mirrors in light
Weare

of / with / trying

Ourselves / Each

Other.

-r-Susan Morstein

COLORBLIND Desperation
IF YOU CLOSE Faded stains
strained by
YOUR EYES some absurd test of time
EVERYTHING
or dull gray jokes
IS BLACK long since
-Ken Nerum past their prime

are like petty poetry
cloaked in
sing-song rhyme:

Nothing measures up
to what it used to be.

-Carol Hunter