Header Graphic
Poetry Page 5




    by Nadine Gallo

Apples used to be the whole story there

Northern spies, Macouns, Macintosh, others

Peaches, too, from orchards nearby – sheltered

By the hills on the south, a bit warmer

So the frost wouldn’t kill the buds in spring

Now they have year-round fruit from far away.

It comes on ships from places far away

People like to shop and eat, browsing there

You can hardly find a car space in spring

They come from everywhere—Holyoke, other

Towns to celebrate Easter—it’s warmer

Apple trees bloom, children gather, sheltered.

Days are longer now, people are less sheltered,

So they come on bikes too from far away.

Students and old people, keeping warmer

Under the blossoming apple trees there

They sit together with coffee. Others

Glance over them to see some signs of spring.

We hear the music playing—Rites of Spring

It seems to come from very far away

The pink orchards sparkle – we are sheltered.


Bio:  Nadine Gallo has been previously published in  the GSJ, also: JIR, writers eye, 
Boston Literary, Interstice (2010) South Texas College journal and  Wolf 
Moon Journal



Retina Shadow

  by Daniel Wilcox

The blinding resplendent brilliant blaze of sunfiring
In the translucent window at the top of our old stairs,
Lighting to my eyes glaring defects
In the polished stairstep well-walls.

And afterward, for an hourglass,
The irised rectangle of remembered light

Luminous shining
Like an euclidic spirit in front of my vision,

The 'optic mystic' nerve gleam
Of photoreceptors

Turned into images in my mind
As I trudge about the hectic scurry of my day,

That brilliance of aperture at the center

(In this pit-caved depression
Of emptiness, and not.)

The after shadowed light of One
Far brighter
Than nature's harsh survivored death glare
Or the gray-dusted rituals of this culture of shame;

Look, not to this dark cavern,
But  to the sun-resplendence,

Now allegorizing--

Oh, the after-glowed radiance!



Bio: Daniel Wilcox earned his degree in Creative Writing from Cal State University, Long Beach. A former activist, teacher, and wanderer from Montana to the Middle East, he casts his lines out upon the world's turbulent waters and far shores in The Copperfield ReviewThe Centrifugal EyeLunarosityMoriaCrossing Rivers Into Twilight, Unfettered Verse, Writer's Ink,  Oak Bend Review, etc.  "The Faces of Stone," based on his time in the Middle East, appeared in both The Danforth Review and Danse Macabre. A book of his poetry, Dark Energy, was published in 2009 by Diminuendo Press. Daniel lives with a second volume of poems Psalms, Yawps, and Howls, a speculative novel, The Feeling of the Earth, and his wife on the central coast of California--not in that order;-).http://psalmsyawpshowls.com






An Unwritten Law


   by  Robert Laughlin




The laws of physics that exist

Aren’t always written down to read,

Including one that shoppers for

A home would benefit to heed:

The noise that thoughtless people make

Steps up and up as you recede.


Your landlord didn’t say a thing

About the tenant right next door.

She sleeps by day; at night she screens

Her DVDs till three or four.

Her giant speakers generate

Vibrations in your bedroom floor.


You chuck the flat and get a house

In a suburban cul-de-sac.

The neighbor kids are metal fans;

They form a band and then attack.

Their daily jams are arguments

For banning aphrodisiacs.


A ranchette next, two acres worth.

Just lots around, no perils lurk,

No neighbors yet—-but soon a man

Puts up his house. And then this jerk

Tows in a hundred cars; his lust’s

A different kind of body work.


This time you’re in the hinterlands.

The only house but yours would seem

A quarter mile away. You sleep

And have a sadly shortened dream.

Your neighbor’s training, dawn to dusk,

For the Olympic rifle team!



Bio:  Robert Laughlin lives in Chico, California, in a Craftsman bungalow that awaits restoration by some well-heeled future owner.