by April Dawn
Winter has us locked up like lab rats,
Staring at the walls,
Waiting for flowers to grow through the cracks.
Waiting for spring to come and cut the grass
Wide open for me to smell.
This town will still have all the same things
For me to find mid-May.
Farmers market Fridays,
Strangers to befriend,
Bookshelves to tear apart . . .
But for now, I feel trapped here.
Always waiting for the weekend,
Always watching it wave goodbye.
April Dawn’s newest poetry collection,
“Lungs Like Elephants,” is available here.
by Tony Vonier
I have a fire you cannot quench,
On the court or on the bench.
It was placed inside by God alone,
Before I ever left the womb.
A fire with a purpose, of this I’m sure.
A fire that burns without a cure.
On the Diamond, Court or on the Field,
To my opponent I will not yield.
I will fill my circle with others who burn,
With those who likewise seek to earn
A trophy, ribbon or loud applause
For a game well played that achieves our cause.
As life goes onward, and the game evolves,
I’ll no doubt contribute to the crowd’s applause.
I’ll be with the ones who stand in awe
On the bleachers of a diamond or court so far
Where fires burn in others new,
and yet in me, but from a different view.