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Poetry 4 Winter 2014
Cold Mourning
             by  William Davies, Jr.
The frost is ladled like medicine
over the woods,
lack of a thermometer 
dictates prudence.
A bedside vigil,
until a facial tic
gives rise to a sort
of sunny epilepsy 
whose flashes rattle 
birds stuck in its throat.
Bio: William Davies, Jr., has published in The Cortland Review, Bluepepper, The WIlderness House Review and many others. He is also the Poet Laureate of Perry County, Pennsylvania.  


    by Joan  McNerney

I want to make an angel

in the snow though I am

old for that sort of thing.


That is something I have

never done.  A woman from

Vermont told me about it.


Nobody made slush angels

in Brooklyn…unheard of…

with no meadows to angel in.


We just threw hard packed

snowballs at each other

sliding over icy streets.


Now I will take my pick

of snow.  Find a perfect

field of that lush white stuff.


I will lay down on a cool bed

flapping my arms up and down

to make sacred patterns.


Yes, I will angel away

over and over until finally

I fly off to heaven.


Want to wing it with me?


Bio: Joan McNerney’s poetry has been included in numerous literary magazines such as Seven Circle Press, Dinner with the Muse, Blueline, Spectrum, three Bright Spring Press Anthologies and several Kind of A Hurricane Publications.  She has been nominated three times for Best of the Net.  Four of her books have been published by fine small literary presses. 


           by  Carmen VonTickner
Ninety-one and all dressed up
Sitting and waiting
for her ride to show up
The rendezvous was set for noon
A lovely day in the middle of June
A Gentleman caller she's waiting for
As she paced the floor back and forth
Awaiting a knock at her front door
For a day of fun, on the dance floor
The minutes jumped; the hours zoomed
No caller came, no caller called
She took the hint, with a swig of Gin
Embraced herself with a coy chagrin
Her red dancing shoes
were put away
Off came her gown
Then the sparkling jewels
She sat by her window
Caressing her pillow
When a frightful thought
hit her; like a bolt of a billow
"Can you believe," she dramatized
"I've been stood up, and that's a first,
but I'm no lady, and I shall curse
take my word, it will get worse!"
Bio: Carmen Ruelas VonTickner, is  77 years young.  She  enjoys writing short stories and poems for entertainment. She is  a dedicated student of the Creative Writing Class at the local Senior Center; as well as the creator of Dance and Dream.