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Poetry 1
The Tree
    by Carolyn Wolfe

Yesterday they cut down a tree
in my neighborhood
a tree that had celebrated
small, fragile birds...(tharr be more) 
in its brancheso
nurtured squirrels
weathered storm after storm
and the polar vortex
of a terrible Winter
It had 21 years
of providing shad
parading holiday decorations
for Easter
For Christmas
its limbs filled with lights
wind chimes swung bell-like
from its twiggy fingers
a bird feeder
among its leaves
It was full of life
and embraced all who came to it,
with its vibrant energy..
I passed by it yesterday morning
like I do most mornings
not giving it much thought
and when I returned home
only its trunk remained
its branches
littered the grass
like the bones of a skeleton
no longer green
nor full of its life force
once so strong and bright within
it died suddenly
I asked my neighbor
she answered, with tears in her eyes,
"The Management here needed room
to put in a double wide, and this tree
was in the way."
All I could think of was
I had no chance to say goodbye
no chance to warn it
no chance to witness
its last struggles
against the saw
and I wept
for the tree
and for those who had thought
it was only 
a tree.
Bio: Carolyn Wolfe is a free-lance writer, published poet, and author of seven books, which range from children's picture books to adult Sword and Sorcery novellas, and are all available on Amazon.com.
Her other body of work includes writing articles for local newspapers including two Winchester VA newspapers, The Compass , and the Winchester Star (for a  six month Special edition section). 
Ms. Wolfe also free- lances for local organizations.  When not writing her books, she keeps herself busy hosting local poetry events in the Winchester area.  A compilation of her poetry titled "Notes From The Shadow Self" is available through amazon.com.  Ms. Wolfe lives in the Shenandoah Valley with her photographer, husband Scott and a houseful of animal companions.
  by  Patrice Mason
Hidden deep within the forest
Older than time
Branches replete with life
Birds, squirrels, deer
Ecosystem in the clouds
Golden water, precious bark
Tallest tree, deep roots
Radiating wisdom.

Bio:Singer/songwriter and poet Patrice Mason lives in Los Angeles. Patrice started her career traveling the world performing American and French classics.Presently her focus is on writing and recording, music and poetry.‘ Colors   of   Life’  is a collection of original poetry. Her CD of original material “Beautiful Day”  is offered on iTunes. 


Sing Spring

   by Kim Hazelwood



Here we go again,

Spring, Sing for me, Sing!

A choir of sprouts in Petrichor,

Earth, blooming   a tributary of tulips,

Or second coming of Cupid,

With a Crush so grand,

The heart expands the universe,

Paint it ~

As the sun seeps  through  a canopy of a Tree of Heaven

With  golden- lined colorfields,

Melting my magenta heart.


Ah Spring, mind if I sing?

Help me imagine with the most touching of treatments,

All the things you will bring to me.

Textural colors bursting love,

Voluptuous vines inviting violins to serenade villas of violets,

In the rarest romance of bewitching, bejeweled leaves

With the tethered souls of a thousand roses.



Your storyboards  knock my socks off  everytime,

Incredible universe,

Boasts  of a beautiful bliss,

Tying together,

Precious people and places,

Forests with a paradise of birds,

A euphoric elydoric  for which there are no  words.


Mother Earth canvas

Help me imagine with

The bravest of brush strokes.

While  rain  plays bongos on my rooftop!

Ah, Spring!

While you are up dreaming  a  million  mighty things,

Mind if I sing?


Bio: Kim Hazelwood is the editor of this litzine and the author of CoyoteBat! Last year she had the honor of being interviewed by the Winchester Star as one of the featured poets for 100,000 poets for change-a worldwide event. She was also one of the judges at the Poetry Out Loud National Recitation Contest at a local high school in November. She is thrilled that  The Greensilk Journal has entered the tenth year of publication and that writers of every experience level continue to contribute.


The Lone Coyote    

    by James G. Piatt


I hear the Coyote wailing a

Peculiar strident sound in the

Wee hours of the magenta

Colored spring morn, it moans

Poignant tones, forlorn, and

Unforgiving: Strident grumblings

Cross the threshold of unreality

Into my dreaming mind, weird

Unnatural echoes of that which

Are obscure, and upsetting:

It is a strange, impious groaning

That descends into my soul then

Fades into the clammy earth: It

Merges with all that which exists

In the murky solitude of the night,

And thrusts my mind into the earth’s

Soil until it tastes bitter trepidation.

I have never observed that lone

Coyote that yowls such an unearthly

Din, for it always disappears unseen

Into the shadows of its own being, and

Into my ghostly dreams…


Bio: Dr. James G. Piatt has had two poetry books, “The Silent Pond” (2012) and “Ancient Rhythms” (2014), and over 620 poems published. His thirdpoetry book will be released in mid 2015. His poem, “I Am” was nominated for a 2014 Pushcart award, his poem, “The Night Frog” was nominated for best of web 2013, his poem, “In The Meadow,” was selected as 1 of the 100 best poems of 2014, and his poem, “Teach Me” was selected for the 2014 poem of the year award at Long Story Short.

His books are available on Amazon, and Barnes and Noble.