FIREWEED DECEMBER 2005

FOUR POEMS. FIVE POETS



Bill Dills & Terrie Leigh Relf


San Diego City College, Fall 2005

The campus' Ambergolds' leaves
are turning red,
they fall on the lawn
to be blown and shoveled away
by the groundskeepers               
 
students
rest against backpacks
Santa Ana winds                   
 
the air suffocating--
mummifying the leaves
drying minds             

papers rattle
in a teacher's hands
coffee spill                               
 
we watch the black
liquid dry
on the sidewalk          
 
dark clouds
scent of trash
too long in the bin                     
 
pungent silage,
memories of youthful incest
in the haymow                              

sunset
parking the van
on a side street                              

better romping 
in the haymow
than in a van
on a side street
at sunset                                

their lips
brushing against air
hesitant kiss                           

passing children
overhear the impassioned                  
sounds of the rocking van




David Fraser


In Memory

Black wings cross the sun
dark smoke crawls across shady
solitary graves.
 
In dew splashed spring, lambs
kick up wooly heels with joy
cold, sharp knives are near.
 
At that impact point
you’re gone, rising up to meet
sunshine on your wings.




S.C. Virtes


Book of Years
 
young boy plays the flute
a dusty summer daydream
rattlesnakes dancing

  beyond the solstice

leaves fall quietly
stirred by afternoon traffic
dance like dragonflies

daylight savings

desert dunes feeling
a chill night of december
saguaro shivers

beyond the frost

a road warrior
stops to smell a lone flower
spring is in the air

cycle of seasons
captured inside

shelves full of old books
glimpses of forgotten worlds
eternity bound




Martin Willitts Jr. & Terrie Leigh Relf


Fall 2005

(dedicated to Willow)

willow dances on light                   
there is grace in red flowers
a wren calls for tea 
 
   hummingbird hovers then dips
   a fragrant breeze toward eve'ning   
 
frog demands: repeat!     
a field of red Buddhist hats
push the sun backwards              
 
   a cup of green tea steeping
   so many poems to read           

willow is frantic:                           
wrens the color of frog wind
uproot poems and nap

  
   slumbering through the afternoon   
   the sound of birds chirping

her voice climbs the walls
her knee crimson with gong cries
place tea for swelling     

     pooling on the front porch
moonlight and her tears






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