photoart: ralph murre
First
by
Peggy Trojan
New
Year's Eve
nine
days before I was twelve
Tommy,
visiting next door
came
to visit me, baby sitting.
At
midnight
he
sat on the arm of the chair
and
leaned to kiss me.
That's
all.
No
embrace,
no
meaningless words.
Nearly
seventy years later
I
remember our surprise,
the
silence,
how
warm his lips were
and
how soft.
~
first published in Boston Literary
Magazine
photoart: ralph murre
REVELRY
by
Bobbie Krinsky
Heading
out under a moon
as
luminous as last year’s Solstice,
my
old dog and I ramble
side--by--side
into
the raw country wind:
Two
old bitches taking a stroll
beneath
the stars,
minutes
before New Years Eve, 2003.
While
I plunge through snow hushed fields
flooded
with silver,
my
girl prances like a pup
and
paws through shadows
of
winter’s trees splayed across midnight’s
ice
blue light.
~
first published in The Wisconsin Poets’
Calendar
