Breaking Bread

by Kevin T. McEneaney      for Douglas Grandgeorge The book lay closed on the table, yet he could read it; he knew the surface and below the surface where wisdom slept like a cradle with its secrets. He knew the ...
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welcome drip

by Kevin T. McEneaney end of snowy pelt mid-winter ice melt   small humps of ice dirty, not nice   fevered plant or two poke ice-crust through   as snow evaporates landscape translates   birds less frantic at feeder less ...
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Lament

by Kevin T. McEneaney The House of Laws mourns for the loss of its dignity. The labyrinth of law and decorum echoes in silent objection to its violation before the world.   We weep for the unnecessary dead. Everyone knows ...
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At the Feeder

by Kevin T. McEneaney Nonchalant Reverend Junco says Hi! Superstitious Morning Dove says Goodbye! Postal Deliverer Chickadee, here… Wren, a delicate dancer, conjures charm… Bluejay crowd, big bullies of the whole roost… Unflappable Robin files a lawsuit… White-throated Sparrow, a ...
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A Midwinter Day

by Philip Brady   There were snowdrops in the graveyard today, First growth of the season, or maybe last. Nature has its own calculating way With calendar for future times and past.   It was the Winter Solstice where we ...
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Nearly Six

by Kevin T. McEneaney      for Cameron Hush! He is prancing, frolicking in snow: More like a striped chipmunk than squirrel. Tossing snow in air, falling like a veil removed from upright arm, teeth-smiling face. He lives in fluff-joy of ...
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Equinox Joy

by Kevin T. McEneaney When there’s frost painted on nose, ice in toes, fingers split on many digits, can’t move, ice clinging to eyelids, beard, and nose hairs, ears screaming like an opera diva, hair frozen to back of head ...
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An ear to rain and time

by Kevin T. McEneaney Sleeping with rainfall is a luxury to be savored like excellent coffee!     Long ago, little could be accomplished when it rained: carve wood, make love, work leather, card wool or think of new projects ...
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WASP

by Desmond Egan exhausted from banging and buzzinghow bewildered he isas he crawls is crawling up the pane of light beware of the web poor small creaturethrown like us against thingsso totally puzzling and yetso simple I will coax him ...
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Plume Meditation on Machu Picchu

by Kevin T. McEneaney You don’t have to be Euclid to wonder at the proportions of rugged beauty that assault the eyes of the beholder at Machu Picchu in sunshine or rain. People once prospered amid the huge stones and ...
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