INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Bilall Maliqi
Duane Locke
Eddie Awusi
Silvia Scheibli
Amit Parmessur
Lyn Lifshin
Juan Hongi
Shutta Crum
Peycho Kanev
Fahredin Shehu
Lana Bella
Laszlo Slomovits
Abdulrahman M Abu- yaman
Elisavietta Ritchie
Michelle Bailat-Jones
Keith Moul
Aneek Chatterjee
Tom Evans
Robert Nisbet
Paul B. Roth
Alex Ferde
Alan Britt
Richard Gartee
Karyn M. Bruce
Ali Znaidi
Running Cub
John Grey
Jennifer Burd
Fred Wolven
Helen Gyigya
Ann Arbor Review
is an independent
International Journal & ezine
Copyright (c) 2018
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 51 years all together....
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staff:
Francis Ferde
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub
Fred Wolven
Submissions via
e-mail:
poetfred@att.net
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MY HEART
Your hand-print
on my heart
Like graffiti
on this
oak table
Like smoke stains
on this
ceiling lamp
Like whispers
from lips
of the dead
On my heart
HILLS
Gray hills
are almost blue
As faint as
your stone-washed eyes
Worn with years
of gazing
at a lavender sea
Real
or imagined
gray hills
are almost blue
tonight
MORNING PACKED IN FOG
A white donkey
stands
in the damp
pasture
He stands
vey still
Then
lowers his head
crunching
Spring grass
Fog
curls
his delicate coat
white as silk
ARIZONA’S BORDER
A train rumbles
through
this creosote town by the Santa Cruz River
Elevation 4,020 feet
known for Pancho Villa expeditions
and poor soldiers
A metal fence
enclosing
the Hachita Cemetery with barbed wire crosses
commemorates cousins
A fly-over Red-tail
and the Geronimo Monument remind that
surrender was hard to understand
Then and now!
There are new
skeletons
they didn’t tell us
A national historic
monument and
a sheep pasture on the designated border
Cactus wrens
and tales of saddle bags of gold
now cattle ranches
Ceremonial dances
about homeland
and copper mines
Now
a wall
to protect from
the sweat of our labor
our ancestors
our blood
ourselves
Silvia Scheibli, Rio
Rico, Arizona
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