Page 24 - Contrast1993Fall

Colorado August

The wind chimes sound
in a nostalgic melody-
Ringing reminders under a whispering pine.
Inside, the guest book covets a name
that bears the origin of the daughters
whose faces maintain the presence
Of an absent mother's longing.

Their game of scrabble continues,
spelling out strange meanings
on a familiar table, while
eyes follow the ragged tops
of earthly mountains encircling them.

A fleeting image of a ruby throated hummingbird
sips her scarlet drink
from the hanging feeder
drifting outside the windowpane.
Outching the receiver, the numbers spin
Until the warmth of a distant horne
Is spoken softly through the phone.

Kristin Vick

My Daughter

Draped
.in the skin of Werther's Original butter
scotch
with a dimpled smile.

Cradled
in the arms of nature's tree
nestled steadfast in the
sap of security,

eyes of the future looking up at me

Shadowed
by the Mountain Peak full
and ripe with liquid life.

in the silence of our

Knitted
heartbeats
i am
a slave
of Motherly Love.

Darcel Harris

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