INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Patty Dickson Pieczka
Deji Adesoye
Michelle Bailet-Jones
Steve Barfield
Gale Acuff
Elisavietta Ritchie
Solomon Haruna
Aneek Chatterjee
Karyn M. Bruce
Robert Nisbet
Laszlo Slomvits
Y. Przhebelskaya
Running Cub
Alan Britt
Richard Gartee
Fahredn Shehu
Amit Parmressar
Ann Arbor Review
is an independent
International Journal & ezine
Copyright (c)
2021-22 Francis FerdeAll 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:
Alberta Bound
I own a gate to this prairie
that ends facing the Rocky Mountains.
They call it Alberta-
trails of endless blue sky
asylum of endless winters,
the hermitage of indolent retracted sun.
Deep freeze drips haphazardly into spring.
Drumheller, dinosaur badlands, dried bones,
ancient hoodoos sculpt high, prairie toadstools.
Alberta highway 2 opens the gateway of endless miles.
Travel weary, I stop by roadsides, ears open to whispering pines.
In harmony North to South
Gordon Lightfoot pitches out a tune-
"Alberta Bound.
With independence in my veins,
I am a long way from my home.
Tiny Sparrow Feet (V2)
It's calm.
Cheeky, unexpected.
Too quiet.
My clear plastic bowls
serves as my bird feeder.
I don't hear the distant
scratching, shuffling
of tiny sparrow feet,
the wing dances, fluttering, of a hungry
morning's lack of big band sounds.
I walk tentatively to my patio window,
spy the balcony with my detective's eyes.
I witness three newly hatched
toddler sparrows, curved nails, mounted
deep, in their mother's dead, decaying back
Their childish beaks bent over elongated,
delicately, into golden chips, and dusted yellow corn.
Micharl Lee Johnson, Itasca, Illinois and Canada