INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Michael D. Long
Karyn M. Wolven
Smiling like a flush gambler
you adjust your cap against the sun,
slip a ball from beneath your skirt,
position yourself for the serve.
I concentrate on that ball
the color of August daisies
glowing along the river drive
about twenty-five minutes out
along my jogging route.
These daisies that grow along the curve
where no house is visible
and an oak grove shades the river shoreline.
Where a week before I saw a goldfinch pair
flit across the road and railroad tracks
into the shrubs and grasses bordering the trees.
Tennis ball, daisies, goldfinch
of a color merged
as you toss the serve.
Enjoying your smile, your tennis cap,
I shift my weight,
step, swivel to enter the spin of the ball.
Trusting that we see color with the mind.
Michael D. Long, Ann Arbor