INTO THE WOODS ONCE MORE
by John Grey
The crackle of last year’s leaves
is a map of soft sounds.
My feet have no problem following.
For the trail is an old friend,
winds as predictably
as it has always done,
between blueberry thickets
and granite hills,
rising, falling,
crossing the open meadows,
only to return to where it began.
Along the path,
fir and oak jostle for sunlight.
For now, the oaks win,
their pastel boughs outstretched,
their Autumn joy brief but brilliant.
Everything is as it was.
The forest does not forget.
I remember the last time I was here,
and travel accordingly.
I come again to the pond,
once a source of wriggling tadpoles.
The waters reflect a face,
mine and yet
not mine alone.
Bio:John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Midnight Mind, Willow Review and the Pennsylvania Literary Journal. Latest books, “Bittersweet”, “Subject Matters” and “Between Two Fires” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in the MacGuffin, Touchstone and Willow Review.
Casting a Net
Inspired by Winslow Homer’s Playing a Fish
by Peter Thorlichen
The lake absorbs my solitude
The silence reels me
into myself
It’s not loneliness, but
aloneness, extending
an invitation
into my net
A multitude
of thoughts, images, memories
populate
my drifting self
Together, we are
in this moment
Bio:Peter Thorlichen’s essays can be found in the Woven Tale Press and The Brussels Review. His memoir, Hope Farm, is forthcoming from Pierian Springs Press, while his poetry has been published in Mobius: The Journal of Social Change and is forthcoming in The Mackinaw: a journal of prose poetry, The Schuylkill Valley Journal, bramble, The Marbled Sigh, and 25:05. Peter is a retired educator who lives in the Boston area.
Back to Me
by Kim Hazelwood
Bring me
Back
To me
Blue waters of the Atlantic coastland,
This poised to dazzle,
Brilliance~
The unbounded, roaring sea.
Bring me
Back to me
All these things retreated, conceivably for ages,
My unacquainted spirit.
So please no news of the world-
Just the bulletins written on the billowing waves,
Unreserved and freehearted.
From our beachside dreamscape,
Immortal, curling waves,
Bring me back to me.
Where have I really been, but here, now?
Beyond the spill,
The waxing whitecaps
Show up,
To whip my sandy toes throughout eternity.
It’s everywhere today.
All hail to the surf!
The expansive, tectonic, rough and tumbles from the depth of Davy Jones’s locker.
The magnetic, bewitching, rounding, rollers rolling.
Meanwhile,
Just over there,
Gleaming sunbathers,
Sprawling worshippers
Gifting the drift
Of coconut scented
Sea breezes.
Bring me back to me
The dolphins and the crabs and the gulls we’ve teased with snacks.
Bring me back to me
This gloriously sunlit, shimmery edge of summer’s last.
There it finally was, that extra touching, happy glee
The reunion of the old, the new and the sweet.
Bio: Kim Hazelwood lives in the Shenandoah Valley and is the founder and editor of The Green Silk Journal, online since 2005. Elsewhere she has been published in Basilisk Tree and Macrame. Her 2nd poetry book, Jungle Light was published in 2025. Dipping back into the world of fiction, she was recently published in Rundelania.
