—charles mariano, sacramento
saw some shadow pics
shadows on a wall,
and on railroad tracks,
danged if it wasn’t me
most of my life
holding back, lurking
a chalked outline
on a sidewalk,
a ghostly shimmer
behind a moving curtain
had lunch last Monday
years ago, a mutual friend
kept pushing for us to meet
“you gotta meet this dude,” he urged,
“meet him?” Rudy said, “can’t even find him,
damn guy's invisible”
our dear friend died
and somehow we followed through
with his last wish,
there, not there…mostly
been seeing more
a mere shadow
—Katy Brown, Davis
Loki: The Trickster—
these sunburned hours
for learning the ways of the lost,
You see it in her look—
her sable eyes, alive
from thing to thing,
the shadow of a hawk
the silver shimmer
splashes through creeks,
When she collapses in sleep,
—Taylor Graham, Placerville
The street is filled with memories. Hibiscus
and crimson roses embroidered as garden
on the black of a shawl—or is it a print
from a book of children's stories?
Algerian songs of longing fall out of a delta
breeze. Glisten of cobwebs under a balcony
where a girl waits for the lover who may
not come at all. Beyond wrought iron,
small birds have ceased their serenade
and quieted to roost. Beware of too much
happiness. A mother's voice stitches
flowers like petals of blood, solace of time
consuming details in deeper twilight.
The street fills again with memory waiting
for its words.
A MOTHER'S VOICE 2
“Cheap! Cheat!” She yelled at me
from somewhere out of sight.
I peeked again at the tiny urchins
huddled in a crib of fleece and straw.
“Get out of here! Cheap cheat!”
I looked around—where was she?—
and slipped the door shut
without a sound. Rustling overhead.
I'd better disappear before she calls
the Woods Police. “Cheap
cheat!” I guess she means, Don't
mess with Mother Bird's babies.
(based on a quote from Katy Brown)
This cellphone photo taken at first light—
the day so dim, and yet her eyes are bright.
A land of lichened granite, dredged from night
by unseen forces, earth's spine on display.
This cellphone photo, taken at first light,
has caught her briefly amid flecks of white,
the brittling grass in seedhead-disarray,
a day so dim and yet her eyes are bright
attention; you might say, a beacon-light -
not sparks, no red-flag warning early May.
This cellphone photo taken at first light
bodes a strange alchemy, or second-sight.
How elements combine: water with clay,
and day-so-dim with eyes so startle-bright
as if to leap like sunrays into flight
as flame seeks sky; as she will run, today.
A cellphone photo taken at first light,
the day so dim. Look at her eyes a-bright.
—Olga Blu Browne, Sacramento
Unsatisfied wants become evil
in this shaded edge of my
wicked words echo, passion
and promises fade,
love turns to ashes, shadows