along a thread
that connects us
the lark's song
Pat
Davis
are rubies
simply fragments
of forgotten dreams
it is possible
that we once lived
as the dust between sand
Tiffany
Shaw-Diaz
The taste of sloe gin
underneath the blackthorn boughs—
a
blossom-veiled moon.
Pippa Phillips
Poppy Seeds
swearing
right hands raised ...
lone veteran salutes
packing bags
called again
peace and war
silently
walking
arlington cemetery
— old rose garden
B.A. France