Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 1
Halcyon Days 2021—Issue 23 Founder, Monique Berry | Hamilton On Canada
Cover Image by cecilia—stock.adobe.com; Inside photo is Susan Vineyard—stock.adobe.com
Halcyon Days Magazine ISSN: 2291-0255 Frequency: Quarterly
Contact Info http://halcyondaysmagazine.blogspot.ca Twitter: @1websurfer
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 2
Special Notices Halcyon Days has one time rights. See website for subscription details.
Inside
Bios
Alan Cohen Monterey Morning .......................................................... 13 Home .............................................................................. 13 Bruce Levine The River of Time .............................................................6 A Harmonious Day ...........................................................7 Waiting for Fall ................................................................7 A Fall Reflection ...............................................................8 Carol Barrett Daisy 4 Crabapple Medley ............................................................5 Sky Harbor Haiku ............................................................. 8 Leaving My House for a Wooded Retreat ....................... 10 Carolyn Chilton Casas A Desire to be Coffee Beans ........................................... 24 This Poem ....................................................................... 25 Words ............................................................................. 30 Gaiyle J. Connolly Breakfast Close-Up......................................................... 14 Bliss ................................................................................ 16 Joan McNerney Autumn Notes.................................................................. 17 Janice Canerdy Autumn Meditation ......................................................... 11 On Rainy Nights ............................................................. 12 Beauty in Isolation .......................................................... 22 John Delaney Hush ................................................................................. 4 Point Hudson Café.......................................................... 27 Companions .................................................................... 28 Whaling .......................................................................... 29 Matthew Peluso Small Pleasures .............................................................. 26 Sharon Lask Munson First Tree ........................................................................ 18 Camouflage .................................................................... 20 Early Frost ..................................................................... 21 Stella Mazur Preda Baked Pumpkin Custard ................................................. 15 A Woodland Odyssey ...................................................... 23 Vandana Kumar The Poem That Sleeps..................................................... 31
Bruce Levine has spent his life as a writer of fiction and poetry and as a music and theatre professional. A 2019 Pushcart Prize Poetry nominee, a 2021 Spillwords Press Awards winner, the Featured Writer in WestWard Quarterly Summer 2021 and his bio is featured in “Who’s Who of Emerging Writers 2020.” Bruce has over three hundred works published on over twenty-five on-line journals including Ariel Chart, Spillwords, The Drabble; nearly seventy print books including Poetry Quarterly, Haiku Journal, Tipton Poetry Journal; Halcyon Days and Founder’s Favourites (on-line and print) and his shows have been produced in New York and around the country. His work is dedicated to the loving memory of his late wife, Lydia Franklin. A native Manhattanite, Bruce now lives and writes in Maine. Visit him at www.brucelevine.com Carol Barrett teaches Poetry and Healing courses for two universities. She has published two volumes of poetry and one of creative nonfiction. Her poems appear both in literary magazines, and in places one does not typically expect to find poetry: Journal of the American Medical Association, Oregon Birds, The Climbing Art, Christian Century, and American Bee Journal. Carolyn Chilton Casas is a Reiki Master and teacher. Her favorite themes to write about are healing, awareness, and the life journey. Carolyn’s stories and poems have appeared in Energy, Odyssey, Reiki News Magazine, The Art of Healing, Touch, and in other publications. You can read more of Carolyn’s work on Instagram at mindfulpoet_ or in her first collection of poems titled Our Shared Breath. Joan McNerney’s poetry has been included in numerous literary magazines such as Seven Circle Press, Dinner with the Muse, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze, Blueline, and Halcyon Days. She has four Best of the Net nominations and her latest titles are The Muse in Miniature and Love Poems for Michael, both available on Amazon.com.
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Hush
By John Delaney
The fawn stood in the middle of the trail, stiffly scanning its surroundings, having just emerged from ferns under trees that were thick and lush, into the spotlight of the sun, where all were alerted to each other. We stopped, and with a gentle call brought it homing towards us in a rush. But it stopped, too, some yards away. Clearly, we were not what it expected, and no name could draw it any closer. Soon it sought the embrace of the brush. Moral: when innocence approaches, seeking signs of recognition, nature cries ‘hush’.
Photo Credit: John Delaney
In 2016, John moved out to Port Townsend, WA, after retiring as curator of historic maps at Princeton University. He’s traveled widely, preferring remote, natural settings, and is addicted to kayaking and hiking. In 2017, he published Waypoints, a collection of place poems. Twenty Questions, a chapbook, appeared in 2019, and Delicate Arch, poems and photographs of national parks and monuments, is forthcoming next year.
Daisy
By Carol Barrett
buttons line the walkway, tight thimbles intent on summer light, bobbing in the breeze, almost ready to burst, like a tea kettle whispering before that high-pitched whistle, announcing a multi-pettled world for the jay in the pine, the rabbit rustling in ferns, asking as I pass by, for what do you wait, what unfolding witness, deer bounding beyond the soul’s horizon? Camera Nation—stock.adobe.com
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_L_W—Pixabay.com
Crabapple Medley By Carol Barrett
Such a pitiful name assigned them, crabby and without particular charm, mere tabby wandering streets, ravines on rainy days ducking from the sleek Persian’s window gaze. Deer feed on oval leaves in perfect canopy. October, red jewels hang like cranberry on hickory pine. Neighboring tumbleweed nudge a swollen horizon. November, peach hued leaves drape tips of branches. Squirrels adore the mini globes that twist and twirl when nibbled. They will not drop of easy accord, even when a flock descends, and, sated, soars, when wind has wrestled the last leaves loose, snow dons its merry caps. Not till winter stoops to plaintive pleas will they let go succourous cords. The pulp of crabapples, sumptuous bread pudding makes, or almond coffee cake. A most transparent culinary art, jelly takes pint jars with creamy paraffin lids. For dashing trim to wild turkey: chutney, with a stash of cashews, apricot wine swirled above the stem. Seed catalogues feature crabapples, named by blossom, not by leaf: Cardinal, Prairifire, Scarlet Brandywine, Weeping Candied Apple. Harlot petals dance in dark red velvet, or ivory lace. A flicker woodpecker can tilt a limb out of place, so tender the dark tapestry of narrow twigs beyond bearing season. But sparrow, no movement ampler than the slightest breeze. Crabapples bask in sun. Shade will seize, offend their nature. Let glory bloom. Let flute rustle high branches, and deep bassoon encircle trunk. Invite dear friends who portend unhurried history, whose syllables lend a dotted parlance. Offer a sprig of mint. Savor the tart crabapple, its wild and wanton grace.
Shelley—stock.adobe.com
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The River of Time By Bruce Levine
The journey awakens Moving forward on the current Of the river of time New horizons painted Against a backdrop of tomorrow Open vistas looking outward Across mountains and valleys Aglow in the warmth of a sunset As the journey goes onward On the river of time
Hakan Eliacik—stock.adobe.com
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A Harmonious Day
Waiting for Fall
Waves of cool breezes Forecasting fall As the leaves shimmer In the afternoon sun Of a waning August day
Waiting for fall The cool brisk days Filled with transparent skies The bounty of the harvest Blanketed with the silken threads Of fallen leaves Colored from nature’s paint box The fall wardrobe Of cozy cashmere Hidden away during the summer’s heat Tweeds in a herringbone pattern Jackets and long skirts Adorning men and women Wrapping body and soul In luxurious warmth Waiting for fall When music fills the air As birds in flight migrate And the downbeat of a symphony orchestra Marks the beginning of the new season Waiting for fall To heighten the senses With the aromas of cooking And the satisfied palate Of comfort foods Blended in the glory of fall days Filled with beauty And the sights and sounds Of fall
By Bruce Levine
By Bruce Levine
Seasonal flowers Still in full bloom In multi-colored splendor On the patio awaiting fall leaves To clothe it in a new palette
Walking along a beach At low tide Searching for driftwood Formed by the tides Into natural sculptures As the day recedes In the glow of the sunset And the star filled sky Transforms the hours Into the tranquility of night
Teuvo Uusitalo—Pixabay.com
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Svitlana—stock.adobe.com
A Fall Reflection By Bruce Levine
Fall leaves and pine needles blanket the ground Shades of ochre nestled against a crimson backdrop Orange berries fill a tree punctuating the landscape As if the metamorphosis needs defining An October chill a presentiment of days to come Winter poking its head out of hibernation Yet the days hold fast to the glories of fall And still linger a little longer before succumbing A time for reflection and exploration Uncharted pathways set down by nature’s cartographer In forests transformed into stereoscopic slideshows Of heightened expressions engraved on the mind
Татьяна—stock.adobe.com
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Sky Harbor Haiku by Carol Barrett
One leaf flutters past. Somewhere close, coyotes prowl, unlearning instincts.
amenohi—stock.adobe.com
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Leaving My House for a Wooded Retreat By Carol Barrett
I have told the cats who is coming. Seven deer lope through the backyard, one scratching his hind quarter with a hoof. The sprinklers have begun, greening the grass cut just last night at dusk. Dandelion fluff floats on a light breeze. Inside, the cactus my mother nursed for fifty years. The cherrywood floor gleams in dark splendor, my table set with quilted mats, their print tumbling blackberries, peaches, melon. The pantry, laden with jars of plum jam, pear honey. In the bedroom, trusty Singer beckons, spools of lime and raspberry thread, iridescent fabric for someone’s daughter. Bathroom mirror glints, catching the guest soap, stylized wings of a dragonfly. My desk, clear of lists. Bouquet of pencils. Why am I leaving? Why not just tell the world I am away, gone as the night sky at noon.
Photographee.eu—stock.adobe.com
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Autumn Meditation By Janice Canerdy
Each season comes with unique challenges and blessings that affect me countless ways. I’ve found that autumn woos my pensive side the most. I seek an isolated place where only nature makes a welcome sound— the rustle of the boldly colored leaves as they descend, embellishing the path; the breeze that makes my flannel shirt feel good, the woodland creatures, unaware of me but livening the setting that inspires the inkling of a poem yet to be.
Makupix Photos—stock.adobe.com
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On Rainy Nights By Janice Canerdy
On rainy nights, in pensive thought, I claim the respite I have sought but seldom found on sunny days. Cool drops soothe more than brightest rays in times when life's with trouble fraught. These introspective times have brought sweet peace and comfort when I've fought a heated battle with malaise on rainy nights. Sweet peace of mind cannot be caught like raindrops. Nor can it be bought with tears; but when life, like a maze, confounds me, at the flow I gaze and praise the joys by nature wrought on rainy nights.
oktay—stock.adobe.com
Janice Canerdy is a retired high-school English teacher from Potts Camp, Mississippi. She has been writing poetry for decades. Her poems have appeared in numerous publications, including Halcyon (November 2014), Lyric Magazine, Parody, Lighten Up Online, the Society of Classical Poets Journals, and the contest journals of the Mississippi Poetry Society and the National Federation of State Poetry Societies. She has had one book published, Expressions of Faith (Christian Faith Publishing, 2016). Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 12
Home
By Alan Cohen
When arms sting under the influence of wind, chill, and sun and streams sing a sweet, steely song in their rush downhill and profligate trees carpet steep hillsides how can a young man hiking even once here among the bright vociferous flowers help feeling possessive And then because he owns the alpine canyons he is at home whenever he returns as he never is in whatever house he lives, furnishes, cherishes close by his work Snow will close the passes and he will sleep lifetimes away but bright flowers will blossom from his pen and mountain streams will run in his sleep
Monterey Morning By Alan Cohen
The restlessness of these birds Seagulls, pigeons Their white droppings on rooftops The way their excursions Define to our eyes Better than flags The inclinations of the air Their raucous voices, haunting In their repetition, the way they echo In the greater air In under the fog In on land, out at sea Sitting on roofs, on posts On the sand Serve as the city’s anchor Sleeker, more uncompromising More at home than we are
pattierstock—stock.adobe.com
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Jeremy—stock.adobe.com
Breakfast Close-Up By Gaiyle J. Connolly
They come to the table side by side in sleep-rumpled wear with bed-headed hair each thinking the other looks like a film star. He grunts oh almost orgasmic at eggs and fried tomatoes. She seeks his lap for sticky kisses sweetened by desire and rhubarb jam.
He grunts oh almost orgasmic at eggs and fried tomatoes.
Yevhenii Kukulka—stock.adobe.com
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Baked Pumpkin Custard* Submitted by Stella Mazur Preda
Yield: 8 servings 1½ cups canned or mashed cooked pumpkin 1 can (12 ounces) evaporated skim milk 1¾ cups fat-free egg substitute 1/3 cup orange juice 1½ teaspoons vanilla extract ½ cup light brown sugar 1½ teaspoons pumpkin pie spice
*Recipe taken from “ Fat-Free Holiday Recipes” by Sandra Woodruff, RD
1. Place all of the ingredients in a blender or food processor, and process until smooth. 2. Coat a 2-quart soufflé dish with nonstick cooking spray. Pour the mixture into the dish, and place the dish in a pan filled with 1 inch of hot water. 3. Bake at 350 degrees F for about 1 hour and 15 minutes, or until a sharp knife inserted in the centre of the custard comes out clean. Chill for at least 8 hours or overnight and serve. ** DO NOT USE CANNED PUMPKIN PIE FILLING! USE ONLY REGULAR CANNED PUMPKIN. ______________________________________________________ NUTRITIONAL FACTS ( PER 2/3-CUP SERVING) Calories: 131 Fat: 0.2 g Protein: 8.6 Cholesterol: 0 mg Fiber:0.9 g Sodium: 131 mg ______________________________________________________
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 15
Bliss
By Gaiyle J. Connolly
Perpetual carnation white feathered red smells faintly of Christmas candy canes. First appears for a sweet sixteen, a gift from a boy with sapphire eyes. Reappears graduations bridal bouquet anniversaries monumental birthdays. Dianthus Bliss botanical name expresses joy remembered; making a comeback horticulturalists claim. This frilly beauty never left. Nor did the boy with the sapphire eyes.
Pixamio—Pixabay.com
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Autumn Notes By Joan McNerney
Four sparkling maples sashay in autumn winds. dressed in yellow lace. Half moon hiding in old oak tree on top of hillside. Children kicking up leaves shouting while jumping over mounds of foliage. Bright leaves gleaming in sunshine tumbling through an Alice blue sky. Carpets of red yellow brown foliage unfurls before us. Walking through trails of trees becoming spellbound by leafy giants towering over us.
lydia—stock.adobe.com
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 17
First Tree
By Sharon Lask Munson
He trudges down from the hills through knee deep snow dragging our first Christmas tree positions the tall fir by the front window where the pale light of a winter’s day illuminates a bird nest hidden deep in its branches. Speechless, we stare at the gift aware of the legend luck, health, and happiness brought to those who are so fortunate.
Val Weston—stock.adobe.com
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Alan Cohen’s first publication as a poet was in the PTA Newsletter when he was 10 years old. He graduated Farmingdale High School (where he was Poetry Editor of the magazine, The Bard), Vassar College (with a BA in English) and University of California at Davis Medical School, did his internship in Boston and his residency in Hawaii, and was then a Primary Care physician, teacher, and Chief of Primary Care at the VA, first in Fresno, CA and later in Roseburg, OR. He was nominated for his performance in Fresno for the 2012 VA Mark Wolcott Award for Excellence in Clinical Care Leadership. He has gone on writing poems for 60 years and, now retired from medicine, is beginning to share some of his discoveries. He has had a poem (“Autopsy”) and a medical letter to the editor in the New England Journal of Medicine and, more recently, an article called “Annals of Communication: Giving a Patient a Diagnosis and Other Idioms In Development” in the American Journal of Medicine; and has had poems published in various publications. He had an honorable mention in Ninth Annual Mississippi Valley Poetry Contest; and has had letters to the editor in the New Yorker and Poetry Magazine. He’s been married to Anita for 41 years, and they’ve lived in Eugene, OR these past 11.
Gaiyle J. Connolly, a poet and artist from Hamilton, Ontario, Canada, has numerous publications to her credit, some of them prize-winning. They appear in local and international periodicals and journals. Her collection of poetry, Lifelines, which she also illustrated, was published in 2015. Her background of several ethnicities, love of art and travel and devotion to social justice are reflected in her work. Her readership includes Canada, the United States, Mexico and India. She is Past President of the Tower Poetry Society in Hamilton and has been active in poetry groups in Mexico. She is at the moment working on her second book of poetry for which once again she will provide illustrations. As a change of pace, she is trying her hand at short story writing inspired by her childhood years spent in rural Quebec.
Sharon Lask Munson was born and raised in Detroit, Michigan. She taught school in England, Germany, Okinawa, and Puerto Rico before driving to Anchorage, Alaska and staying for the next twenty years. She is a retired teacher, poet, coffee addict, old movie enthusiast, lover of road trips—with many published poems, two chapbooks, and two full-length books of poetry. She now lives and writes in Eugene, Oregon. She says many things motivate her to write: a mood, a memory, the smell of cooking, burning leaves, a windy day, rain, fog, something observed or overheard—and of course, imagination. She has a pin that says, “I Make Things Up.” You can find her at www.sharonlaskmunson.com
Stella Mazur Preda is a resident of Waterdown, Ontario, Canada. Having retired from elementary teaching in Toronto, she is owner and publisher of Serengeti Press, a small press publishing company, located in the Hamilton area. Since its opening in 2003, Serengeti Press has published 43 Canadian books. Serengeti Press is now temporarily on hiatus. Stella Mazur Preda has been published in numerous Canadian anthologies and some US, most notably the purchase of her poem My Mother’s Kitchen by Penguin Books, New York. Stella has released four previous books, Butterfly Dreams (Serengeti Press, 2003); Witness, Anthology of Poetry (Serengeti Press, 2004), edited by John B. Lee; From Rainbow Bridge to Catnip Fields (Serengeti Press, 2007) The Fourth Dimension, (Serengeti Press, 2012). She is a current member of Tower Poetry Society in Hamilton, Ontario and The Ontario Poetry Society. Stella is currently working on her fifth book, Tapestry, based on the life of her aunt and written completely in poetic form.
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 19
Camouflage
By Sharon Lask Munson
Flocks of ptarmigan approach by the hundreds fill tundra skies, descend grayish-brown in summer they merge into plants hide among rocks, bushes. * In frigid December these arctic birds blend into the snow covered earth like brides on their wedding day dressed in their best winter white.
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 20
Early Frost
By Sharon Lask Munson
The expected snowfall failed to arrive and as the silent dawn unfolds the child sees mosaic patterns of silvery feathers angel wings had come to rest on the window overnight.
_L_W—Pixabay.com
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 21
The Beauty in Isolation By Janice Canerdy
I've spread my blanket on the ground close to the trunk of a majestic willow tree. I relish how its long, green, wispy leaves, which almost touch the ground, envelop me. I watch them swaying in the gentle breeze as I sit--silent, lost in pensive thought. As one who feels that solitude can lead to peace, I've found the perfect spot I sought. I brought my pen and paper just in case . . . but suddenly I’m nodding and my eyes are closing. For a little while, I'll sleep. Perhaps I’ll write a poem when I rise. Jakub Luksch—Pixabay.com
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 22
A Woodland Odyssey By Stella Mazur Preda
Foliage stripped, barren skeletons defy the forces of nature proudly exhibit their nakedness. Others, leaves trembling in autumn breezes perch precariously atop boulders as if the aged rocks themselves had given birth.
Evergreens stand tall, towering peaks mirror reflections in still translucent waters below.
Harald—stock.adobe.com
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 23
A Desire to be Coffee Beans By Carolyn Chilton Casas
In the hour after dawn breaks and before the sun rises over an eastern hill, I want to be a bag of coffee beans, dark, wafting a fragrance that motivates nations to action, cured with sunlight and rotated by human hands in a far-off tropic land, beloved as they are to those of us who dream of the perfect cup, mine with a dash of sugar and frothy milk stirred in. To be sought after that way, to be tenderly held and desired, to provide warmth, finding that perfect place to belong.
Artem—stock.adobe.com
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 24
This Poem
by Carolyn Chilton Casas
I have lost control of this poem. The reins have fallen from my hands, the horse I am riding galloping toward a steep cliff. I hang on to his mane, lean my bobbing head to his ear, softly whisper, Stay calm, we can do this together. But the horse has other ideas. He’s frightened, determined to go his own way, wondering why I am still on his back. At the precipice, his temperament settles, he slows, allows me to reach down to pick up the reins and turn him finally toward home.
olgagomenyuk—stock.adobe.com Ilshat—stock.adobe.com
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 25
Small Pleasures By Matthew Peluso
Soft, warm winter mornings on the Key Enjoying a café con leche and empanada de carne Followed by a fresh, hand-rolled cigarillo Just bought on Calle Ocho the day before Leaning on a shelf at my favorite local bodega Listening to Celia Cruz coming from a small Ancient radio stuck between photos of Pope John Paul II Draped in rosary beads and a black-and-white of Luis Tiant Watching my young kids letting out of school early on a snow-day Their laughing, slipping, snowball throwing awkwardness While I wait curbside, in line, with the buses, per pick-up protocol The pleasure of winter fun and play that awaits their day ahead Trying to vicariously share their innocent joy in the accumulation But gladly resigned to failure caused by the weight of experience And deference to their complete and sole ownership of the moment Sitting in an Adirondack on the wrap-around porch of an old-house Early spring morning, with the sounds of a soft, misty rain Gently tapping on the overhang, and moistening hungry, young buds Nestled deep in my favorite broke-in, plaid-lined denim jacket A hot cup of strong, black coffee on the armrest, steam slowly rising Re-reading a favorite novel that always confirms how the very few Can capture the complexity of existence with extraordinary insight
Louisen—stock.adobe.com
Matthew Peluso is a civil rights attorney and poet, whose work is inspired by the discriminated and marginalized people he represents. He has a B.A. in Philosophy from George Washington University and a J.D. from the University of Miami School of Law. His poems have appeared in the Opiate Magazine, Global Poemic, Roanoke Review, Waterways: Poetry In The Mainstream, the Wilderness House Literary Review and Stoneboat Literary Journal.
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 26
Point Hudson Café By John Delaney
After I order, I look at the boats in the marina from my window seat, undulating like white piano keys in a light wind across the water. Gulls hover high above their masts like notes.
The breakfast chatter is just loud enough to render words into laughs. A buzzing peace. We’re a sun-up, chow-down crowd, mostly seniors and regulars from town or Retirement Vehicle residents. The sun is blinding, so some blinds come down. I examine the chart of my placemat, showing in nautical exactitude the range of anchorages in Puget Sound, the fathomed depths of each channel. Somehow, with our Good Place Sense, we found our way here. And now comes the food and my attention turns more practical to an egg, a pancake, and one piece of bacon: the chef’s special from the chalkboard menu. Leashed to schedules, some are led away, but there’s nowhere I need yet to go. I am moored in thought, idling my spoon in a cup of coffee, while today sends an RSVP to tomorrow.
Eifel Kreutz—stock.adobe.com Jasmin Merdan—stock.adobe.com
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 27
Companions By John Delaney
My old car drove by me this afternoon. I recognized the quirky rear dent, that is its birthmark, in the side mirror. Twenty years old! And two since I sold it. But there it went: someone else at the wheel. I was surprised, of course, but solaced, too. So much time we had spent together, running trips and errands, commuting years, ready to go, like a dog for a walk, when I turned the key. Best of companions. Then I thought of all the mortal others who shared with me a term of days: hopeful that they survive somewhere on this planet, that those I loved now ride with someone else, no worse for wear—all heading places still.
Miroslava Arnaudova—stock.adobe.com brandon—stock.adobe.com
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 28
Whaling
By John Delaney
At the first blow, someone shouts. By the second, we’ve rushed the windows to catch a glimpse of this spouting off. There’s another, and another—just enough to keep our rapture growing. In front, the Olympic Mountains loom over Port Angeles where we’re heading. The whale, or whales—we’re assuming now a mother and her sportive calf have hooked the narrative thread— herald their way down the Strait of Juan de Fuca to the ocean, crossing the ferry’s path, baiting our thoughts with these firework displays jetting out of the motioning water: puffs and exhalations we take as signs of mighty, sentient beings ascending from imponderable depths, as we, too, loose our pent-up prayers in praise of faith and wonder.
annepowell1956—stock.adobe.com
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 29
okalinichenko—stock.adobe.com
Words
By Carolyn Chilton Casas
Words give the tongue wings. Consider spangled, calabash, chiseled— their pipelines vibrating through your body. Say enigma, Osage, interwoven, cobalt, concentric, lodestone— they take you to an imaginative place far from the small space you inhabit. Think nouns—lullaby, spark kernel, Pismo; adjectives— secret, crisp, lucid, ethereal, verbs—preen and praise. Words can save you; they are rafts on a rolling sea. Putting them together is a marvel. Taste the word pozole— how it makes your mouth water, bursts of tones like shooting stars.
Words can save you; they are rafts on a rolling sea.
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 30
The Poem That Sleeps By Vandana Kumar
Not every poem jumps out of bed. with sunshine in its eyes Poems have travelled eons Yours and mine The last emperor’s My neighbor’s Poems carry the weight Of their own weary feet It’s okay now and then to find some summer shade A cool river flows The poem unpacks its words and falls asleep
Poems carry the weight of their own feet The poem unpacks its words and falls asleep
rolffimages—stock.adobe.com
Vandana Kumar is a Middle School French teacher in New Delhi, India. An educator with over 20 years of experience, she is also a French translator and recruitment consultant. Her poems have been published in various national and international journals and websites like ‘Mad Swirl’, Toronto based ‘Scarlet Leaf Review’, Philadelphia based ‘North of Oxford’, Saint Paul, Minnesota based ‘Grey Sparrow Journal’, UK based ‘Destiny Poets’, ‘Lothlorien Poetry Journal’, ‘Madras Courier’, Glomag etc. She has featured in anthologies like Houston, Texas based – ‘Harbinger Asylum’, US based ‘Kali Project’ of Indie Blu(e) Publishing etc. She has been part of two projects of the World literature series on Post-modern voices and critical thought. She also writes articles on cinema that have appeared on websites and journals like ‘Just-cinema’, ‘Daily Eye’, ‘The Free Press Journal’, Boloji.com and The Artamour. Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 31
Halcyon Days - 2021 Issue 23 | 32
