A Severe Delight

It rushes down the mountain: a cataract of sound a spray of mist and shade-light a roaring, silence round. – I pick my steps on slick-stones, a cat afraid of glass, to plunge my head beneath it and feel it—surging past – I feel the flecking wet sparks I step onto the ledge, but find […]

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Autumn Equinox

Black crow sitting on the ghost branch caws, white horse running up the hill. Half-baked pumpkin in the window sill, old brown buggy in the stalls. – Corn silk spotted in the sun’s last gleam, Wolf dog lying on the floor. Rusty shovel by the screened in door grey paint dying like a dream. – […]

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A Lowcountry Occasion

Pink tree painted like a splash against the sky, grey cloud glowring overhead. Sad stream teardrops striking from the sky green washed willow by the pond. – Fiddlers scatter in the skittle of the rain tall grass bowing to the breeze. Marsh walk lifted like a piece of wooden foam billion pinpricks pattering. – Lamplight […]

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On a February Day

Spring Time loves the South and cannot stay away. He notes how winter hesitates before the hills that rise gently into mountains, garbed deciduously grey, where branches made to be adorned—by leaves or snowflakes one— In breezes neither warm nor cold, can only sadly sway. As winter frets to stain her white, majestic dress on […]

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The Bird

God gave the tiny puff bird his stately majesty. In black striped gray, with easy grace, he rests. And knows his place. – – – – – – – – –

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The stag turns and snorts, Stamps his seal on autumn earth, Sensing unseen foes. ____ Indistinct, wraith-like shimmers— greens, and blue above. Nothing moves. —- The hiker freezes, breathlessly searching the deer. Patient as winter. —- Brown like the wild grass. Alert, head cocked. Stately in fright. —- The deer lifts its nose— the spring […]

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The Sky’s Goodnight

  by Holli Gibbs Sometimes the sky is eloquent When it says goodnight, And the Day steals away On trails of amber light. The clouds break forth from their silence In the pinkest and purplest of tones, And thoughts of good things come to life In golden homophones. Words surge to the farthest horizon, And echo from mountains […]

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