by Tohm Bakelas
you thought summer might not end this year, that autumn had no chance, but then without warning the temperature dropped, and it seemed as if overnight leaves changed from green to yellow, from yellow to red, from red to purple, from purple to black. all those faded lemonade sunsets you chased no longer arrived. all those flowers you watered at midnight wilted and died. you considered fleeing town, driving to some place with a name you couldn’t pronounce. but you knew anywhere you went, no matter the name or the place, you’d be faced with the same situation, the same death of everything, the same dying autumn. and so you prepared for winter by burning blue memories just to stay warm. and when the fire died, there was nothing to do but embrace the cold.
Morning Near Meadow Lane
by Beverly Rose Joyce
Tohm Bakelas is a social worker in a psychiatric hospital. He was born in New Jersey, resides there, and will die there. His poems have appeared in numerous journals, zines, and online publications. He has published 22 chapbooks and 2 full length collections. He runs Between Shadows Press.
Beverly Rose Joyce is a poet, photographer, and plein air painter who lives in Brecksville, Ohio, a suburb of Cleveland, with her husband, Carl, and their two daughters, Mallory and Samantha, along with their two dogs, Shadow and Reggie. She holds a BA in English from Baldwin-Wallace University and a MA in English from Cleveland State University, and she was a public high school English teacher for sixteen years. Her visual and literary art has been published in numerous art and literary journals and magazines, as well as in various anthologies.