INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Deji Adesoye
Changming Yuan
Violeta Allmuca
Beppe Costa
Engjell I. Berisha
Narendra Kumar Arya
Akwu Sunday Victor
Michelle Bailat-Jones
Laszlo Slomovits
Stefania Battistella
Agron Shele
Lana Bella
Fahredin Shehu
Alan Britt
Silvia Scheibli
Shutta Crum
Running Cub
Alex Ferde
Irsa Ruci
Jennifer Burd
Paul B. Roth
Richard Gartee
Elisavietta Ritchie
Peycho Kanev
Helen Gyigya
Amit Parmessur
Sneha Subramanian Kanta
Robert Nisbet
Jeton Kelmendi
Duane Locke
Richard Lynch
Jean McNerney
Fred Wolven
Ann Arbor Review
is an independent
International Journal & ezine
Copyright (c) 2017
Francis Ferde
All rights revert back to each poet.
--editor / Southeastern Florida
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AAR history note: in print 1967 - 1980. Irregular publications 1980 - 2004. As ezine 2004 - present. Most of 48 years all together....
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staff:
Francis Ferde
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub
Fred Wolven
Submissions via e-mail:
A STREET SHOW
A cat and a dog were sleeping together
in a big box on the corner of the windy street.
Sometimes they were just looking at each other.
Passers-by stop for a moment to take a look
and to throw some spare change in the box.
Their owner was there too.
He looks like a gypsy fortune teller dressed in rags
who slowly sways in the wind and
falls asleep in the falling dusk and dream of
tragedies in the making.
AT DAWN
Always early in the morning
when the light of the stars diminishes
and the harsh wind starts to blow.
The leafless branches are trembling
in front of the window’s square of light;
I can hear the song of some bird,
but there’s nothing on the tree, not even
a single feather:
I open my eyes and the song jumps into
my throat –
and I sit up as if I always expecting someone
early in the morning, or maybe I prepare
to leave, as if always parting from someone,
until I find myself and I’m no longer anywhere
Peycho Kanev, Bulgaria and Chicago