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Poetry 3 Fall 2018




                       by  Mike Lewis-Beck


            A bicycle in the village seems held

             by a tree’s grasping bark.


            Rising above the Common, this rock

            maple stands beside a parked fire truck.


            Low mountains, hills really, make phantoms

            in a morning mirage.  The bike tandems


            to the tree, a little girl’s bike pink

            with candy-stripe streamers.  Linked


            like a tired pony to a post, its reins

            as handle bars for tomorrow’s rider.


             Raising up my umbrella against light rain,

             I ponder her, this tomorrow’s rider.


             A strolling man across the way jostles

             my reverie with a handy wave, a tossed smile.


             I give back the smile, stepping on down

             this Main Street in absent melody.


             All good, in season,

             for no reason.


 Bio: Mike Lewis-Beck writes and works in Iowa City.  He has pieces in Alexandria Quarterly, Apalachee Review, Cortland Review, Chariton Review,Northampton Poetry Review,  Pilgrimage, Iowa Review, Rootstalk, Seminary Ridge Review, Taos Journal of International Poetry and Art, Writers’ Café and Wapsipinicon Almanac, among other venues.  His short story, “Delivery in Göteborg,” received a Finalist prize from Chariton Review, 2015.  His essay, “My Cherry Orchard in Iowa,” received recognition as one of the ‘Notable Essays’ in Best American Essays of 2011.  His poetry book manuscript, Wry Encounters, was a Finalist for the 42 Miles Press Poetry Award 2016.





Stones & Dreams

       by James G. Piatt


Balmy breezes carrying my idle 

thoughts swirled around the 

burnished edges of eternity

 peering into the heated hush of 



It was near a bark-covered path 

where I found lovely colorful, 

stones hidden among flowers in a 

meadow. I gave them to a 

beautiful lady I did not know, but

 recognized from one of my 



As I walked away, my mind’s 

cache of old memories released 

visions where nothing existed 

except objects that emitted 

pleasant fragrances,


I followed the aroma of the red 

roses, Jasmine, and lilacs, which 

permeated my senses, and 

walked up a set of stairs to an 

ancient clock, which had secrets 

hidden inside its golden works. 

next to the old clock I saw the 

beautiful lady siting in a rocking 

chair weaving me dreams out of 

the colorful stones.



Bio: James has had several poems nominated for both Pushcart and Best of Web awards, and his poems have been published in the last four of the ‘The 100 Best Poems Anthologies.” He has won several poetry awards, and was interviewed as a featured poet in numerous magazines. He has had three poetry books: “The Silent Pond” (2012), “Ancient Rhythms” (2014), and “Light” (2016), four novels, 35 short stories and over 1100 poems published in over 205 different magazine, anthologies, and books. He earned his BS and MA from California State Polytechnic University, and his doctorate from BYU.




Photo Dreams at Thanksgiving

         by   Keith  Moul


I hadn’t figured time rightly.

A minute gone may be a year.


Then Fall photos flitted by

on my computer, like movies

in the theater of my past;

recast my eye at red, orange

colors; ghostly shaped spells;

fresh, audacious, bold acuity:

light of photographers’ dreams.


Time, so it happens, diffuses

like rain filtering through silt;

often inconsequential forever

or until the future moment

casts its light, such as morning.


I got the mood right, but mood

blackens, must ask forgiveness.

Don’t revisit those goblins alone.

Holiday good gets much better.

Take children.  Build traditions

of tricks, treats and time passing. 




Bio: Keith Moul's poems and photos are published widely. Finishing Line Press released his chap, The Future as a Picnic Lunch, in November 2015. Aldrich Press has published Naked Among Possibilities in August and No Map at Hand for 2017: Finishing Line published Investment in Idolatry early in 2017.