INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Fahredin Shehu
Elisavietta Ritchie
Uvie Gwewhegbe
Jennifer Burd
George Miller
Robert Penick
Laszlo Slomovits
Richard Gartee
Gale Acuff
Stephen Sleboda
Robert Nisbet
Chris Spitters
Silvia Scheibli
Michael Lee Johnson
Alicia Mathias
Alan Britt
Y. Przhebelskaya
Helen Gyigya
Aneek Chatterjee
Alex Ferde
Running Cub
Joanie Freeman
Shutta Crum
Fred Wolven
Ann Arbor Review
is an independent
International Journal & ezine
Copyright (c) 2020
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 55 years all together....
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staff:
Francis Ferde
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub
Fred Wolven
Submissions via e-mail:
River
The river starts wide,
then enters a chasm that narrows it.
Channeled between rocky walls,
its intensity increases,
cutting deep,
carving a canyon to make its bed.
Sleep no more lazy river,
suffer mighty torrents
rasping sandstone and granite alike
for a millennia or two.
Crystals of mica ripped from muscovite
sparkle like drops of water spray
effervescing from rapids in sunlight.
The tumult foams like tailings
of suds from an old fashion washboard.
Reaching the canyon’s end
it becomes what all tyrants fear,
aware of its confinement.
Feeling the impending open plain,
rocks crumble at the ravine’s edges
as the waters rush out; the river
broadens and recomposes itself.
Downstream, water birds
wade its weedy banks
catch minnows
but never venture upstream
into the turbulent canyon roar.
Clouds
Imagine being the sun,
and light rays,
consciousness
streaming forth.
On
that which the sunbeams come to rest,
become the objects of which we are aware.
Between sun and object,
space.
A gap midst which
clouds can arise,
as sunlight evaporates sea
and atmosphere cools
molecules of water to coalesce
around particles of dust.
Its umbra reduces light
that reaches objects below.
And in the clouds’ shapes,
imaginary figures distract
our awareness.
The clouds may darken,
hiding the sun
until it rains.
The clouds dissipate,
the storm is done.
With clouds gone,
sun shines without obstruction.
Richard Gartee, Gainsville, Florida