Issue No. 8
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AVOCET The Weekly Issue No. 8 | February 6 - 2013
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Just $24 for four issues Charles Portolano, Editor P.O. Box 19186 Fountain Hills, AZ 85269 Sample copy - $6
Transcript of Issue No. 8
Avocet The Weekly
Issue No. 8 | February 6 - 2013
Weekly Avocet - www.avocetreview.com
-2- February 6, 2013 - Issue No. 8
WINTER LIGHT
Season’s first splendoring snow wind-driven, drifting calls me
to abandon words bundle up walk
out into pristine lucence swirling about city streets
Proud pinnacles of glass and steel lost in blown sheen of radiance
Hyperbole of politics and guarantees of commerce hushed - almost to truth
Daily rush-rush-hurry impeded by high drifted iridescence
Multifarious human lamps veiled, shown for dim imitations they are
Strangers, knowing nothing of each other except this storm we have in common, speak
in passing as we walk deeper into the stunning lightness of winter’s mind
Charles [email protected]
“There’s no money in poetry, but then there’s no poetry in money, either.” - Robert Graves
Weekly Avocet - www.avocetreview.com
February 6, 2013 - Issue No. 8 -3-
Long Ago Snows
The muted silence of a foot of new snow
brings memories of a country road,
trackless in the morning, and our joyful
frolicking off to school with wool pants
tucked into galoshes, buckles fastened
to keep out the snow. The only sounds
are the shushing of boots and my sister’s
laughter as she follows in the trail
I’ve broken. Then a car appears magically
behind us, tire chains clinking. A neighbor
slows to wait for us to move off the road
and waves as his car hums past. We rest
by walking in the tire tracks he makes,
heads wreathed in our breath, bodies
warmed by trudging, sliding, laughing.
Now, a lifetime later, the thought
of mushing those miles makes
me shiver. I no longer burn
with youthful heat. I hibernate
in the house and listen to
those long ago snows.
Art Elser [email protected]
“Poetry is imaginary gardens with real toads in them.” - Marianne Moore
Weekly Avocet - www.avocetreview.com
-4- February 6, 2013 - Issue No. 8
For now,
they merge with waves, hundreds
of Canada Geese lifting, disappearing with gusts
that streak a blue sky black, test the old oak’s
foothold at the pond’s edge,
whirr through firs in the dry air.
New ice allows no carp to leap,
no painted turtle to sun along the fallen trunk,
no snake to test the trail.
All color gone, leaves spiral back
upwards, chickadees call across great distances.
A single cormorant claims the cove
where summer swans once nested in down,
left deep imprints in tall grass,
now all leveled in frozen flatness.
Harp-strings of ice laced straight
over the dam surprise me, as does my effort
to listen for their soft tones, and to hear them.
“Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson
Weekly Avocet - www.avocetreview.com
February 6, 2013 - Issue No. 8 -5-
Jack Frost
He jumps from front to front along the weather, just a boy who stomps the wet from puddles,leaves behind white footprintsand measures progress by isobars. He diamonds out across the riverfast as a water spider, traps us in his icy silk,treats us like his own dessert,frosting our dreams of the sun.
Previously published in New York Quarterly P M F [email protected]
“Always be a poet, even in prose.” - Charles Baudelaire
Company for Lansa
Through the Mahoosuc winter
it is lonely in the topshack, even for a prickly old Finn,
even with the constant wind,the speaking snow and pines.
Beside the trail, naked branchesare stripped, damp and yellow.He hollows out a small shelter
in the snow bank beside his window.Every day he portions half his chips
knowing how the wild things love salt-purchasing a hands-off sort of friendship
with the taciturn porcupines.
Previously published in The Aurorean
Sonja [email protected]
Weekly Avocet - www.avocetreview.com
-6- February 6, 2013 - Issue No. 8
“Our task must be to free ourselves... by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty.” - Albert Einstein
Sheet/Ice
a cold glistening
sheet of hardpan
clings to the surface
deflecting the edge
of the blade
ringing through each strike
splitting the sheet
into fractals clattering
shattering scattering skittering
fragments of a puzzle
trying to fit
slot tab and notch
into a mirror
reflecting the eventual
slip skid and slide
down out and away
from a once secure purchase
David [email protected]
“Not just beautiful, though--the stars are like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they’re watching me.” - Haruki Murakami
Weekly Avocet - www.avocetreview.com
February 6, 2013 - Issue No. 8 -7-
WOLF MOON
Lacing skateswe watch the daring plows leavethe mill pondshowing the ice is tested and true.
A few circles warming ankleswe pick up speed and head straightto the river outletracing down the winding trailof its unknown length.
Soonthe others, tiring, turn;one shouts,“Remember, we have to skate back!”And they do.
The Wolf moonresplendent and full of itselfclimbs higher to watch the two knivesslicing across the glinting crystal;it casts gangly bone shadowsthat from each shouldered bankbend to touch their crooked fingers.
Propelled by the rhythm of the danceLeft sway right swayLeft sway right swayunstoppable as the forward flow ofremembered waterdriven like lemmings toward the sea.
The moon rises higher and smaller;the final vowelof a distant howldangles hauntinglyin the air.
Carol A. [email protected] “The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.” - John Muir
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