Disorientation

by Ann Christine Tabaka


The whistle of a distant train pierces the night.
Loneliness swallows the darkness.
Unspoken words consume the mind.
Strange thoughts invade reality as walls close in.
Time painfully creeps by until almost at a standstill.
Slowly strangling the will of its ability to resist.
A disoriented half dream world,
where corners of the imagination
shatter into vibrant fragments,
in the eternal plight of sleeplessness.


* * * * *

"Disorientation" was previously published by Ariel Chart and nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry.

Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 & 2023 Pushcart Prize in Poetry; nominated for the 2023 Dwarf Stars award of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Poetry Association; winner of Spillwords Press 2020 Publication of the Year; featured in the Who’s Who of Emerging Writers 2020 and 2021. Selected as a Judge for the Soundwaves Poetry Contest of Northern Ireland 2023. She is the author of 17 poetry books, and 1 short story book. Her most recent credits are: The Phoenix; Eclipse Lit, Carolina Muse, Sand Hills Literary Magazine, Ephemeral Literary Review, The Elevation Review, North Dakota Quarterly.

AUTUMN MELANCHOLY                                                 

by Brenda Mox


The sea works gently
at the shore,
its halo of waves
wash over her
barnacled rocks,
floating seaweed,
sun mottled sand
and soaked, fallen leaves.

As autumn’s pervasive melancholy
drips translucent veils
that few can see
on trees that hide
in the folds of the land
near the sand
where seagulls grieve.


* * * * *

Brenda Mox is a poet, visual artist and MFA graduate from Old Dominion University many moons ago. Her work has been published in Wingless Dreamer, Bewildering Stories, Blaze Vox, Ariel Chart, Down in the Dirt, Neo Poet, Discretionary Love, Corporeal, Heart and Mind, Edge of Humanity, Poetry Pacific, New Myths, Poetry for Mental Health journals, Eber and Wein Anthology. 

Autumn

by Laura Ann Reed


Beyond a window, a stone’s certain surfaces
are dark with shadow, and each of the three
white blossoms on a rhododendron stem
opens to the wind in a different direction.
From between gray clouds light shines
on a crow’s wing as I turn and turn
in October’s yellow weather.


* * * * *

"Autumn" was first published in ONE ART: a journal of poetry 2023.

Laura Ann Reed, a San Francisco Bay Area native, taught modern dance and ballet at the University of California, Berkeley before working as a leadership development trainer at the San Francisco headquarters of the United States Environmental Protection Agency. Her work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies in the United States, Canada, and Britain. She is the author of the chapbook, Shadows Thrown (2023). Laura and her husband live in the Pacific Northwest.

 

Shared Space

by Carol Keeney


Along the Little Missouri, the cottonwoods
are dressed in their vibrant autumnal glory—
even below gray skies, even after a soft rain—

and I, dressed in down, hands in my pockets,
notice people gathered in twos, in threes,
facing this hallowed amphitheater.

Ambling, a band of wild horses— roans, pintos,
bays and grays, one foal swishing her tail—
feed on dry grasses, oblivious to their audience.

I stand still, watching the horses,
watching the people watching the horses—
all focused on these creatures of the wild
who grace us by coming near.  

A woman looks my way, our smiling eyes
meet in this rare mutual delight.
Others, with fancy cameras, edge in closer,
crouch to capture this moment into memory.

What lingers with me:
trees, horses, humans
in a golden quiet.


* * * * *

Carol Keeney is an emergent poet living in Montrose, Colorado. She is a retired teacher and community organizer. Besides writing poetry, she enjoys hiking, backpacking, time with her family and friends, and camping trips to National Parks and other public lands with her very small travel trailer.

 

HAIRBRUSH IN THE FALL

by Martina Reisz Newberry


A woman brushes her hair;
leaves fall
and part
the autumn
air.
It is the same dance.

I am at a hotel window
staring out as noon turns
to what was once called
“The Gloaming.”

Obviously, it was named that
to paint pretty edges
around what is a drab,
unhappy time of day.

Still, I stand in this
waiting room looking out
at the light struggling to stay
regardless of the hour.

I watch very deliberately
as if watching will save the sun.
I am fat with my conviction
that desiring a thing
will make it so.

All color fades.

Somewhere,
far from here,
it is a brilliant morning.
A woman has gotten up
from her bed.


She brushes her hair
and stares out the window
seeing leaves
rake
the air,

thinking how it is that
the golden illumination
is only bright enough
to show her
what
she’ll
never
have.

* * * * *

Martina Reisz Newberry’s most recent book is Glyphs, available now from Deerbrook Editions. She is the author of Blues For French Roast With Chicory, Never Completely Awake (from Deerbrook Editions), Where It Goes (Deerbrook Editions), Learning By Rote (Deerbrook Editions) and Running Like A Woman With Her Hair On Fire: Collected Poems (Red Hen Press). 

Writing in a Woman's Voice is on equinox break this week. Posts will resume on September 29, 2024. Happy days to all of you!

 

FOOTFALLS

by Emily Black


I breathe air perfumed with age, polished
cleanliness and the lingering fragrance of people
who, over many years, came in to pick up
their mail or drop a letter into a heavy metal slot.

I imagine those letters to be for loved ones
far away. I close my young eyes and see words
written in a graceful hand, words of courage
and longing.

I float in the hollow sound of a dime I dropped
as a child on marble floors surrounded
by brass-doored mail cubbies with their mysterious
combination-lock handles.

There was a blind man behind the coffee-shop
counter on the second floor of this ancient post
office building. He was my friend. He knew me
by the sound of my footfalls as I entered his shop.

Though I am old now and he is gone from this earth,
our friendship is still a comfort to me. He is part
of the silken web of memories I’ve woven that bind
my life into a tapestry of love.


* * * * *

Emily Black, the second woman to graduate in Civil Engineering from the University of Florida, enjoyed a long engineering career, and in time, blended that with a career as a Doctor of Oriental Medicine. She is published in numerous journals. Her first poetry book, The Lemon Light of Morning, was published by Bambaz press in 2022 and her second poetry book, We Feed Dragons to the Moon, by the same publisher in March 2024.