Thanksgiving

by Kevin T McEneaney Like the turkey, prehistoric flyers were not adept at aerial soaring any more than beginning choirs at a small church with smattering of ambition rooted in…

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There are days

by Kevin T McEneaney When sun is out walking above white clouds and obviously in a genial mood with plentiful, bounteous rays spilling over hills, streams, lakes, trees, fields, and…

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Spaced Out

by Kevin T McEneaney Our wobbly globe is a walnut in air, trembling in an elliptical orbit much like a leaf shredded in a typhoon off the coast of a…

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Where is the Where?

by Kevin T McEneaney   People say the world must have arrived from somewhere and they posit that the where was once nothingness. It’s a popular story in the news.…

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As Song Goes

Crescendo by Kevin T McEneaney The singing of songs defined humankind before we turned to invent weapons: bows, arrows, knives, catapult, use of fire.   Music is the oldest part…

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A Pilgrimage Journey

by Philip Brady That was a magnificent evening he said Addressing no star in particular On its rotation round infinity. If there was a better superlative I would have used…

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The Loom

by Kevin T McEneaney Shushing of autumn tree leaves in the wind freights dry, brittle sound as they drift to ground. There is sadness in the air when leaves die,…

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Your Poem

by Philip Brady I saw your lines discrete between the leaves, And saw the thoughts within the lines unfold, A breath too fine for spoken word to breathe, A whispered…

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Summer Rain

by Bill Keller   We went walking after rain through earthworms stuck on cement: strange crooks and curlicues, an uncanny alphabet.   We were travelers, too,  wondering where the path…

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Blue Notes

  by Kevin T McEneaney   What is love in high C in the morning when dew nestles on waving leaf and blade while burning sun has burnt all clouds…

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