April 2018 – Page 3

fingers intertwined
your slippered feet atop mine
before the fire
–
two dozen years-
still waking up
next to you

the last white rhino-
a moment of extinction
right before our eyes
–
blood in the dirt-
a portrait with
his latest kill

blue moonlight drips through
holes in the tattered shingles
onto the barn floor
–
peeling red paint-
the barn door
hangs askew

flat black soulless eyes
devoid of humanity
staring back at me
–
cold city street-
trying not to see
the homeless

the constant north wind-
a forest of leaning trees
hunched against the cold
–
april fools-
a robin’s tracks
in the snow

rivers of sunlight-
the waking ocean meets the sky
and the coming dawn
–
sunrise-
morning glory
blossoms

a once proud lighthouse
wind battered, cracked and aging
still stands defiant
–
chalk cliffs-
scoured by
an angry sea

over greening trees
the ashen face of winter
watches the sunrise
–
peep frogs-
rainfall on
the river

corrupted and vile
poisonous invasive roots
unwilling to yield
–
oblivious-
wandering into
a nest of vipers

a fleeting moment
captured in a photograph
when we were in love
–
a glass of wine-
this shoebox full
of torn photos