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 Oct 2018 trf
Kurt Philip Behm
Coming from nowhere
Going the same
The tracks in front
Pointing to
Tracks behind
The wind on the lake
Reminding
That I am still a guest
The snow on the ice
An invitation
Begging acceptance
New Hampshire Winters
Are white
In my consciousness
And frozen in their
Clarity
Even whiter
Dawns
Out of the stillness
A Moose crashes
Through the snow
Never acknowledging
My presence
His majesty
Confirming everything
That unfound I’ve lost
His spirit cries out
And with quiet respect
I follow him across
The frozen lake
Leaving tracks of memory
One final time
  —never to be seen again

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
 Oct 2018 trf
She Writes
I let my fingertips
Dance in the rain
Washing away my troubles
Bit by bit
As each drop
Kisses my hand
 Oct 2018 trf
WL Schuett
Born into dawns spark
of suspicion .
Following faiths track
to eternity.
Questioning the rails
I traipse .

She knows the clouds
breath
crashes in the rocks
refrain .
Yet she fights for the
equality of senses .

We meet at the summit
of a lonely dreamscape ,
with flowers and nymphs
beautiful and armorous .

At the trees spire
we found meaning
as treasonous
blossoms return .
Dripping from loves
estotic comeback
nectar running down
her leg .

While her ballad is
written on ancient winds .
Sung as tragic owls
slip the spires
and wander the
broken fields .

While I lay dying
into dusks arresting
berth of acceptance .

She floats above
the crashing rocks
of freedom .
 Oct 2018 trf
Kathryn Rose
Tonight the West sky favors the dream
You left on my bedside table
Washed, soft and dark
Even the clouds cry for you
 Oct 2018 trf
Kathryn Rose
Cloudy Sundays will always belong to you
Sleepy amber
You are the rain
Seeping through the windows
Dousing me in kerosene
Lighting the flame
Encroaching on my present happiness
Drove a thousand miles away
But asked again
To scratch your back
Retrace the touch
Permanently erased
Memory’s demise: “soon”
You mustn’t have known,
I cried too.
 Oct 2018 trf
Maya
your eyes
are the ocean

salty tears
are its waves

bitter storms
are your temper

and lonely shipwrecks
are your rage.

my eyes
are a forest

feathered lashes
are its oaks

shady glades
are my sadness

and weary deer
are my hopes.
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