Poetry
These Blueberry Bushes
by John McKernan
Sound
Like harps
Their red leaves
Plowing the cool October air
Into furrows of light
The Translators
Section in the Help
Wanted Classifieds
Should be ten pages thick
As for the Lutes
With the Unicorn Strings
Played with a Quill of Phoenix
They’re ready to surf the December snow drifts
On their way to the April waves of White Lilac