Ann Arbor Review


Silvia Scheibli
'Deji W. Adesoye
Chris Lord
Ali Znaidi
Paul B. Roth
Umm-e-Aiman Vejlani
Lyn Lifshin
Laszlo Slomovits
Naim Kelmendi
Richard Kostelanetz
Anton Gojcaj
Duane Locke
Jennifer Burd
David Ishaya Osu
Steve Barfield
Miguel A Bernao Burrieza
Richard Gartee
Violeta Allmuca
Alan Britt

Fred Wolven
Ilire Zajmi
Running Cub
Donal Mahoney
Fahredin Shehu
Peter Tase
Nahshon Cook
Al Ortolani
Alex Ferde
Anton Frost

Michelle Bailat-Jones
Lazlo Slomovits & Jennifer Burd

Karyn M. Bruce
A. J. Huffman
Michael D. Long


Ann Arbor Review

is an independent

International Journal & ezine

Copyright (c) 2014 Francis Ferde
All rights revert back to each poet.
--editor / Southeastern Florida

Francis Ferde
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub
Fred Wolven

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Fingertips, new to strings, turn red,
sore from playing.  Bare feet, fresh
to hardwood floor, wince from dancing.

But keep playing, keep dancing,
and fingers and feet develop calluses,
no longer tender.  The same happens

when working with tools.  These are not
scars on wounds that have healed.  They are
the body's devotion to joy and service.

But let not singing make calluses
on our vocal cords.  May we learn
to sing open, so it's not so.

And let not contact with others
make calluses on our hearts.
May we learn to be open, so it's not so.


Laszlo Slomovits, Ann Arbor, Michigan
Jennifer Burd, Ypsilanti, Michigan


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