This Afternoon in London by Larry Pike

This Afternoon in London by Larry Pike I stood in the museum’s Manuscript Room long enough to hear the grave whisper of the gimpy Lord’s soul as it pressed against the leaded glass. Was it an alien tongue or simply muffled sound indistinct about my ear? Its swelling sigh did not arouse the sentry whoContinue reading “This Afternoon in London by Larry Pike”

Stone of North Circle, Near the Cove, Avebury by William Doreski

Stone of North Circle, Near the Cove, Avebury by William Doreski Am I more impressed by the stone, a notched and corrugated haystack, or by the neighboring oak embraced by two dozen ivy vines thicker than my thigh? The oak itself boasts a four-foot diameter trunk and looks sturdy enough to brace an Anglo-Saxon Parthenon.Continue reading “Stone of North Circle, Near the Cove, Avebury by William Doreski”

Walking Up Scafell Pike with My Father by Christian Ward

Walking Up Scafell Pike with My Father by Christian Ward After walking a few yards you breathe like someone who has slipped across the border. I am ahead, you are far behind. There are no rest stops on this rocky path to the summit, no hedgerows to distract our lack of common interests or silencesContinue reading “Walking Up Scafell Pike with My Father by Christian Ward”

Midsummer on Bodmin Moor by Rose Mary Boehm

Midsummer on Bodmin Moorby Rose Mary Boehm White feathery tufts ofof cotton grasswave in a breeze. Wind rustles in the golden gorse,whispers in stunted thorn trees,strokes heather and the oddbattered blackthorn. My tightly tied boots breakdry, hard grasses overtreacherous ground. Belowthe surface run kilometersof badger tunnels. Occasionally a bird lifts off, itsflapping wings the onlyContinue reading “Midsummer on Bodmin Moor by Rose Mary Boehm”

The Words, Distant Now, and Mitred, Glint                 by Jonathan Yungkans

The Words, Distant Now, and Mitred, Glint               after John Ashberyby Jonathan Yungkans A silent, exploding kaleidoscope, set in stone and set in anything but stone—the glassine whirl—white and red and a blue that could only be Winchester,its West Window shattered—Biblical scenes captured like insects in amber scattered by vandalizingContinue reading “The Words, Distant Now, and Mitred, Glint                 by Jonathan Yungkans”

A President Expresses Concern on a Visit to Westminster Abbey by Jimmy Carter

A President Expresses Concern on a Visit to Westminster Abbey by Jimmy Carter Poets’ Corner had no epitaph to mark the Welshman’s sullen art or craft because, they said, his morals were below the standards there. I mentioned the ways of Poe and Byron, and the censored Joyce’s works; at least the newsmen listened, notedContinue reading “A President Expresses Concern on a Visit to Westminster Abbey by Jimmy Carter”

Shifting, Too Anxious to Be Fully Aware by Jonathan Yungkans

Shifting, Too Anxious to Be Fully Aware by Jonathan Yungkans            after John Ashbery What could I say of a young Polish woman that January? I was barely a year into college, on my first time abroad, felt out of my depth. She worked the hotel dining room, met me forContinue reading “Shifting, Too Anxious to Be Fully Aware by Jonathan Yungkans”

The London Eye by Beverly M. Collins

The London Eye by Beverly M. Collins Like most of life, We jump aboard while the ride is in motion. Then, slowly climb to where The view grabs attention. The ascension unnoticed background elevation… Like a “People-pod,” we are a capsule-snapshot of humanity Some are in awe. They laugh, point, chatter, move all about andContinue reading “The London Eye by Beverly M. Collins”

Hadrian’s Wall by Jonathan Yungkans

Hadrian’s Wall by Jonathan Yungkans January snow had melted but wind’s frigid razors shaved away clothes, skin and blood, until white bones stood in our place. Grass and heather would stretch long and green in spring but for now, under a brackish sky it glowered before us brown, solid as a wooden wall in standoffishness—Continue reading “Hadrian’s Wall by Jonathan Yungkans”

London by Kim Whysall-Hammond

London by Kim Whysall-Hammond Emerging from the Tube you clothe me with dusty breath and ambient noise I feel you living restlessly lifeforce surging through centuries pulsing through busy streets I turn a corner and a garden churchyard filled with lunchers and tourists leads me to rest. When leaving you I reach down pet yourContinue reading “London by Kim Whysall-Hammond”