Dead Man's Dirge

I am a dead man's
heart coming to a sputter
old rusty engine 

I am the late summer
turning locust back crisp
ready to fall from a tree

I am time running out
on a scratched tuneless
record about to skip.



J. Ash Gamble
Ft Myers, 
Florida, US 

Gravel

Pound the road
blooming with roses
to where you are from

Remember when
this road seemed long
but now it's shorter
so much sweeter

Memory of mother
knitting or shelling beans
is at odds with recent
flashes of cell phone plans

Mass construction where
you live now
has toppled the afternoon
quiet and morning lull
you grew up drinking coffee in

The gravel leads to pavements
and pavements lead to cities
where people don't know
how quiet lives anymore.


Camille Clark
Atlanta, Georgia,
US

dd