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Poetry & Prose By Caitlin M.S. Buxbaum the water leaps to clasp my hand and passes through me like a ghost — the heart reaches over us, keeping watch
by Nan Potts A baby born, Yet not forlorn, A happy, hardy soul. His innocence, Proves reticence, Mere smiles he does cajole. But future makes, Abounding aches, For some it takes its toll. Though circumstance, Spoils many chance, His heart shepherds his role. For those who strive, Truly survive, May earn their lifelong goal. Then hope anew, And carried through, Born to once more extoll.
by Zoe Cole Dead mosquitos in my bed I hear them fly around my head With little brains and speedy wings I toss their carcass with a fling The other dat I went to hike When I encountered a ‘skeeter tyke He must have called his friends to us ‘Cause soon the trip turned murderous We wack, slap, flick and squish The Alaskan ‘skeet are devilish MID-AUG 2021