Second Place, Poetry Contest
Black Coffee I
sip black coffee
and wonder
what a black
woman would
feel like
to these pale hands,
and wonder if
our children
(coffee and cream)
would need sugar in a
world so
bitter.
by Jim Lounsbury
Claws
at
twin fins two small sharks hunting the edge of the bed circling
my
toes
oblivious prey in socks.
Radar the fur-covered fins
twitch atop a
fuzzy head eyes narrow whiskers perked small huntress big ocean (toes are tuna)
by Cheri Priest 21
