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”

in the meadow magenta by Cynthia Hogue

in the meadow magenta by Cynthia Hogue (reading Robert Duncan in Haldon Forest) bloom looks like lupine from afar but up close the small bell- like flowers of wild hollyhock  the holy that forth came that must come mystery of frond fern gorse a magic to which I relate to land of hillock and bolderContinue reading “in the meadow magenta by Cynthia Hogue”

Only Exmoor by Kim Whysall-Hammond

Only Exmoorby Kim Whysall-Hammond Only Exmoor stretches out to embrace the whole sky in its immensityReflects its moods and colours, its nurture and destructionOnly the moor is as fickle as the sky Today the moor is swallowed as clouds subsume the uplandsYesterday it shed water like the clouds themselvesTomorrow it will shimmer with heat, dryContinue reading “Only Exmoor by Kim Whysall-Hammond”