Fall 2013 Poetry 4
            by Valentina Cano
As he hibernated he felt her
walking the house.
Pausing to inspect the cracks
in the wall he’d dug out with screams.
One snailed foot at a time,
she counted the nights he’d sat
hands holding eyeballs as thick
as balls of yarn.
She walked and he slept,
dreaming of cocooning roots
and the greenest dress
draping her body like a warm breath.
Bio: Valentina CanoValentina Cano is a student of classical singing who spends whatever free time either writing or reading. Her works have appeared in Exercise Bowler, Blinking Cursor, Theory Train, Cartier Street Press, Berg Gasse 19, Precious Metals, A Handful of Dust, The Scarlet Sound, The Adroit Journal, Perceptions Literary Magazine, Welcome to Wherever, The Corner Club Press, Death Rattle, Danse Macabre, Subliminal Interiors, Generations Literary Journal, A Narrow Fellow, Super Poetry Highway, Stream Press, Stone Telling, Popshot, Golden Sparrow Literary Review, Rem Magazine, Structo, The 22 Magazine, The Black Fox Literary Magazine, Niteblade, Tuck Magazine, Ontologica, Congruent Spaces Magazine, Pipe Dream, Decades Review, Anatomy, Lowestof Chronicle, Muddy River Poetry Review, Lady Ink Magazine, Spark Anthology, Awaken Consciousness Magazine, Vine Leaves Literary Magazine, Avalon Literary Review, Caduceus,White Masquerade Anthology and Perhaps I'm Wrong About the World. Her poetry has been nominated for Best of the Web and the Pushcart Prize.You can find her here: http://carabosseslibrary.blogspot.com


   by Linda Thornton Peterson


Like a V in the sky

I see the wild ducks fly.

Fall has finally come

Now the ducks are on the run.

Then, I hear the wild ducks cry

As they paddle through the sky

Calling out to find a pond in which to lie.

They hear their echoes round the bend

And hope they soon can settle in.

The cattails wave; the sunset glows                                             

But their leader never knows

If he will find what they will like

A lonely lily pond for the night.



Bio: Linda Thornton Peterson, a Louisiana native, retired from Northern Illinois University as a psychotherapist and teacher. Six of her short stories and a poem have appeared in The Greensilk Journal. Poetry publications include: The Hanging Moss Journal, the Western State Colorado University Journal and a Northern Illinois University Journal. She won an NIU faculty poetry award and is a founding member of two DeKalb writers’ groups. As a former art teacher and stringer photographer with the Associated Press, she continues to exhibit her art as well as write. 

North Beach                                                
     by  Thomas Piekarski
This district is a perpetual paradox,                                 
a crossfire of wind and dry heat;                                     
so even though I’m chilled I sweat.
Maybe the cat ate the cage, not the bird.
A truck carrying a load of crushed cars
rumbles down Columbus playing Rap
to utter distraction. I make my way
to Cafe Trieste, where hang photos
of Pavarotti, Steve Allen, Bob Dylan.
From a girl’s earring hangs a spider,
dangling on a long thread. It begins
to sing a lot like Dean Martin,
but dances like Elvis. To escape
what seems like double jeopardy
I walk past the Rome Trattoria
then down to the Stinking Rose Cafe,
famous for drowning food in garlic:
I can only guess what colors
may burst forth in a plume of glory.
The fact that the economy has tanked
can’t be blamed on the wrinkled man
zonked on a bench in Washington Square,
having killed a bottle of dago red.
This place is well known for its poets
but you would hardly know it,
Via Ferlinghetti but a nondescript alley
that backs La Spiaggia Delicatessen.
As the half blind man with cane in hand
holds up traffic, walking against red,
I consider if I should take in the Tut
exhibit at the De Young, as I have
nothing better to do than view gold.
Moreover, it wouldn’t involve work,
and like the Miles Davis music
being piped onto the street,
it would create equilibrium
and verticle leap.
Bio:Thomas Piekarski is a former editor of theCalifornia State Poetry Quarterly. His theater and restaurant reviews have been published in various newspapers, with poetry and interviews appearing in numerous national journals, among them Portland Review, Main Street Rag,Kestrel, Scarlet Literary Magazine, Cream City Review, Nimrod, Penny Ante Feud,New Plains Review, Poetry Quarterly, The Muse-an International Journal of Poetry, and Clockhouse Review. He has published a travel guide, Best Choices In Northern California, and Time Lines, a book of poems. He lives in Marina, California.


If I Thought I Would Not See the Moon Again

   by Glenda Glayzer

If I thought I would not see the Moon again,
I would seize this perfect night.
I would not stay inside the musty confines of these walls,
But I would make a pilgrimage.

Arriving at water’s edge,
I would defy gravity to tread her magical path,
Reflected like cold fire, without beginning or ending.
I would worship the beauty of her lunar majesty, stunning, huge and pregnant with her self.

Eschewing the water, I would bathe in her silvery light,
And I would float, bask, renew myself and then, rising up
I would dance in solitary joy to her silent music,
Written by the Cosmos.


Bio: Born Glenda Bell in July of 1945, Glenda Glayzer spent her early years as a musical prodigy. She made her first vinyl record at the age of 13, singing with her parents and siblings (The Bell Family Gospel Singers). Married at 18 to John Glayzer, she moved with him to Europe in 1965. There she began her professional stage career in the Nuremberg and Vienna opera houses, doing American Musicals in the German Language. Returning to the United States in 1974, she became an original cast member of the longest running musical review in the world, Beach Blanket Babylon in San Francisco, California. Over the years, she has added many skills to her career bag including sculpting, painting, photography, location sound recording, writing, and culinary arts certification. For the past decade, she has been designing and building websites while continuing to write articles and fiction for various online sites, including three previously published here in The Greensilk Journal.