by Ag Synclair
this time around it’s all naked trees
and a lifetime promise of winter
that brings us back to this place
of halos and hand grenades.
this is where all the dead ones are buried
this is where it ends, where a mother
drops her young, where all of it feels
like the mighty salmon river, like carbon.
Bio: Ag Synclair publishes The Montucky Review and edits poetry for The Bookends Review. Widely published in the small presses, he flies under the radar. Deftly.
The Sweetest Chord
by Robert L Martin
Sweetest chord, proud beauty, soft velvet
Your independence, your supportive strength
Moving melodies up to heavenly spheres
Stirring tears and sanctifying passions
Suspended between heaven and earth
Collecting sounds that embrace each other
Weaving love on golden looms
Dissolving matter into dreams
Transcendental wizard that you are
Tired melodies come to you in need
You massage them with scented balms
They drink thy magic potion
From ancient vessels, intoxicating lips
You send them on a melodious journey
To strange exotic places
Into rolling seas and warm raptures
Sweetest chord, you transcend.
Music into harmonic bliss.
Bio: Robert L Martin's work has appeared in: Mature Years, Alive Now, Wilderness House Literary Journal, Poet's Espresso, among others. He is also a jazz pianist and the organist at First UMC of Wind Gap, PA for the last twenty one years. He loves the writing of Kahlil Gibran and Pablo Neruda.
by Valentino Cano
Centuries in the river of blood I carry.
The frothing of battles,
the tearing of births,
flesh and steel in
the strands that keep me under
this millennial sun.
A sun that has seen this blood before.
Bio: Valentina Cano is a student of classical singing who spends whatever free time she has either reading or writing. Her works have appeared in numerous publications and her poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Web. Her debut novel, The Rose Master, was published in 2014.