Index

Copyright (c) 2021-22 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, editor
Silver Grey Fox, editing
Running Cub, reader
Fred Wolven, publisher

Submissions via e-mail:

poetfred@att.net

DANCING ON DEMOCRACY’S GRAVE

Dance the pulse of this burning hour.
Let crackling music writhe through your bones.

Dance the color of the sky on fire,
of justice crumbling,
mouths full of echoes.

Hunger growls
beneath flame-shot clouds cracking
into blood-rubies.

A shard falls,
carves the day in half.

Dance in singed clothes
on this ragged ridge of earth.

HIGHWAYMAN’S MOON

Tiny wings shiver
through my veins,
anisette, foxglove.

Ghost of a dream
drifts through the window
on its scent of witch-grass
and meteors, smokes you
across my mind.

Morning yawns the curtains
into my room. A gumbo-spiced
breeze pulls you
to this door.

LOST POEMS

When fire pours from a thimble
in the sun, and my needle
pokes embers, raising sparks;
when diamonds spawn
on dirty dishes, struggling
to slither upstream
to the faucet,
I glimpse unwritten poems.

They swirl around me,
flick their wings
along my peripheral vision,
but there’s no time to write.
I sort through paint samples,
discard a swatch of moonlight.

Patty Dickson Pieczka, Carbondale, Illinois

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