I still find pieces
you left behind, small
memories captured in
still life photographs,
a strand there, a filament
here, evidence that you
filled this space, even
though you have moved
on to other plains.

Yes, you still have me, dear,
and yes I see the pattern
of men in movies, creatures
of failure, but my vows are still
what they were
and I still hope to be better,
speak kindly, and make progress.
Lady among the Stones

She lets them scrape her
too often, falling down upon
them as if they are her bedrock.
I want to tell her these stones
look sharp, their edges not
rounded, another selection
would be better. But she always
wants to build on them,
never wants to leave them,
even until the end of her name.

Grandmother took all
our history, relics, first
kisses, moments beautiful,
hours tragic, and hung them
on the line in her last
late in life fit of madness.
So now we have to hide
them quickly from our
prying neighbors, or else
explain decades of skeletons
dancing in our closet.

Small events that mix like paint,
give us brand-new images, a car
won’t start, a new neighbor moves in,
the earth has begun to cool

A song plays on the radio that speaks
like a god to your aching mind, a deer
stands beside the highway and refuses
to cross your path, the semi lurches

A photograph flashes from nowhere,
your brother moves out and leaves you
the exercise room you wanted, you wake
up and find yourself transformed

into a mythological creature you never
knew existed.

An armor of metal bracelets
clank along her forearm.

She hardens her tone,
looks hard into his eyes.

His jaw muscles tighten.
He shoots her a look
to the bracelets clanking.

—–
G. Louis Heath, Ph.D., Berkeley, 1969, is Professor Emeritus, Ashford University, Clinton, Iowa. His most recent poems have appeared in Eunoia, Verse-Virtual, Inkstain Press, Squawk Back, and Dead Snakes. His books include Long, Dark River Casino and Vandals in the Bomb Factory.

Took a time out to repair some damage
40 pills of beautiful codeine
Then the itching started
Antihistamine pills to take the creepy crawlers away
A week off from work
Isolating from the annoying masses
Wouldn’t call surgery a vacation
There are merits though…

A soft sun’s whiteness…glowing…a
yellow…smiling-light…glowing…a
faint red banner…breaks up…a yellow smile.

A smiling-light…glowing…brighter…I
see…out the corner of my left eye…a terracotta
pot colour surrounding-sky…surounds — and above.

A chalked beach…dustly soft…I
see…out the corner of my right eye…an old
couple in heat waves…they wobble — and kiss.

—–
AM Spence was born in England. She read literature as an undergraduate at The University of Manchester, where in 2009 she completed her MA in creative writing. Her first collection, Reflect, was published last year.

It’s not often you learn
a new word after a certain time,
but I’m finding there’s always
room to learn

Even after teaching for years,
even after taking various
degrees, even after reading
and reading more,

The mouth can still form a new
word, the mind can still shape
a new concept.