Susan Marie Davniero

No Greater Wealth

There is no greater wealth found
Than in the silence peaceful sound
When taking your own life’s path
Absent of false worship on behalf
Of wealth, materialism and greed
There can be no lesser creed
Seek to measure real life’s worth
By way of peace and love on earth
Aim to live a life to share
Giving your love, help and care
Help a neighbor and volunteer
Needy people are always near
Extend a helping hand
Make it your life’s plan
In the end it will make sense
Life is more than dollars and sense

{Poem by Susan Marie Davniero}

Leatha Carter Virostko

Under the Agate Moon

I met a shadow-man on the road
under the agate moon

he slipped through my fingers
like a watery make-of-mind
following my every move

though sleep should have reigned
at this hour
we were alert as owls

a ribbon of tar stretched out to the east
the direction in which we were headed
though I seemed more anxious than
the reluctant shadow-man

a lonely car drove past
moving slowly
then stopping
with steam billowing

I thought we had become fellows
if not friends but
as the beetle ingested me
I found myself alone

looking through the rearview window
the shadow-man disappeared
into the night

while my new friend the driver said
"onward and upward"
we drove away into the night
under the agate moon

{Poem by Leatha Carter Virostko}

Sonja Kosler

Feet

My feet feel weathered boards
as I walk to the end of the dock
where I will sit under the perfect half moon.

My legs sway in lazy arcs
while toes blend lunar light
adrift in the drowsy midnight lake.

Secure in this liquid world
I watch as a solitary loon
dips and dives into the water.

I wonder about this loon.
How does she occupy her time?
Does she have a plan?
Is her life closer to the beginning or the end?

I lift callused feet from the water
observe the drips as minutes from a clock
ticking toward the tomorrow
I see arriving ever too soon.

{Poetry by Sonja Kosler)

Roger Cowin

Fall

A cadre of crows plot against the scarecrow
keeping his faithful vigil over the farmer’s field.
He only moves when the wind blows.
Today the air is still.

The crisp, golden days of autumn
erupt into a pageant of splendid color.

Trees don their gaudiest clothes,
and bright yellow school busses reappear,
even the cerulean sky is streaked
with hints of violet, amber and orange.
Umber cornfields stretch out forever,
awaiting the harvest.


Winter

Winter descends quickly
and overstays its welcome
casting its icy net
over the desolate earth,
a beautiful and deadly web.

By February, the nomad in us
longs for the tropical climes
of the deep south.
We breathe the agitated air,
grow restless and sad.

{Poems by Roger Cowin}

Peter Lattu

divorce

snow falling
in Crystal City
harsh highrise
covered
in cold snow
she said
divorce
he froze
in the winter night
all warmth
crushed
in the cold

{Poem by Peter Lattu}

Gregory Liffick

Amen

The elder
of the
inner city
church
prays on
his knees,
still numb
from years
of manual
labor.
The ache
in his
bones
adds
weight
to his pleas.
He raises
a finger
like David
on the
Sistine
ceiling,
hoping
to dial
the Almighty's
number.

{Poem by Gregory Liffick}

Amye Nicole Bird

Love's Long Hours

If the love of my life has all been for naught
And all of myself I've just given in vein,
If I've truely not been my lovers one love,
Then all I've done is tossed about
In an endless, desperate fight,
Through an ever darkened, blinded plight.

For we've blown through weathered, blackend skies,
Fought the rivers rapid, turbulent cries,
We've seen the days of anguished, frightened eyes,
And still we melt in the embers of fires empassioned might.
Years of empty, years of plenty,
Years of giving all and all the more.

If loves long hours have all been for naught
And all of this heart I've just given in vein,
If I've not truely felt my lovers true love,
Then this very life has been lived out in doubt,
Unknowing, unlearning and having no clue
Of what true love is all about.

{Poem by Amye Nicole Bird}

Matt Catania

Follow Me Down the Well

Follow it down the topple well
wish the haze away
eyes are dreary, liquid, unclearly
a human fog
dim lights dismay.

Eyes grow dreary, deep, dark
dim lights dismay
Eye can see in the dark
clear precise, sharp
is the way

Eye can see in the dark
only one way
is the way
only one way
is my way

Only one thing can be said
Eye can see it
I can’t say it
I don’t know how.

{Poem by Matt Catania}