Wine and time by Keith Burton

[tabby title="Poem"] Of course, I recall the decanted pour,the skewering aromas, the sanguinetinge. I miss it in ways, like alleyways ona hand-drawn map of a hometown thatyou can’t return. Please don’t make a thing of it, mydeclining of promising vintage,...

Waiting In The Evening by Christopher Kenneth Hanson

[tabby title="Poem"] While in wait,under orange treesbluebirds flew above me they had made small nestswith twig and branch they had sung melodies by the seaand where I sat upon the shore and as the moon rose,I could see their shadowsmoving...