You are getting closer,
I can hear the crunch of soft sand
the skitter of stones beneath your boots.
Your scent fills my flared nostrils
And your hands of steel butterflies
float over proud bones luring me
to the killing fields.
Your fingers are the scent of
I lick them like fresh flesh wounds.
Your feathered crop gently brushes my shoulders,
no one can save me now, there is nothing to do,
because you have always known how
to break wild horses.
Winter does not empathize
with withered branches
or displaced birds fleeing waves of
of frozen breath.
Her howling wind is a laugh out loud and
she hasn’t the grace to cover her mouth.
A tease of holly and evergreen
flicker at the curve of billowed thighs,
glistening folds of hallowed mounds
drift in other worldly sighs
ensnared in her exquisite binds.
art by Karol Bak
As the fog of dream lifts
I feel the tinder of your skin
on mine igniting a raging flame.
Your eyes seek out the savage
Here we are still lovers
where like a starving animal
I devour you with weak bites
never completely consuming
When I was just a shy girl
and you a blonde haired boy
we raced through wheat fields chasing.
Suddenly serious your adventurous
eyes made me shiver and your hands
stroked my body for no apparent reason.
I longed for your touch anytime and
kissed you open mouthed without permission.
I adored your mock anger when I hid away
and made you find me and the way you quickly
looked away when caught staring.
Autumn threw its shadow on sprouting
wheat where we lay naked smooth and wet.
Now I always knock before I enter your
reading room and you softly close your book
and pull me to you fierce, tender,
Art by Rob Heffernan
Erect on a tall stalk
wrapped in veiny leaves
heavy with the burden
of viscous dew
for the love of light her
corolla lifts upright
a broad faced still life
anchored to the earth
she tracks the sun blindly
through the violet sky
At dusk she combs the air
retreating at twilight into
pearly pools of the moon.
Photograph by Heart
I’m alone and afraid, my car abandoned along a deserted highway. I’ve been walking for a while and my feet are raw , I am carrying my shoes in my hand.
When he stops and motions I hurry to his door.
Searching his face he seems harmless. Holding out my cell phone I lie. ” I will be happy to give you lift, you need just get inside”. When I decline he speeds away.
Browsing the news over morning tea my heart pounds and it is hard to breathe. Her body was found beneath some trees her shoes clutched in her hand