! ! ! ! No Regrets Journal
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No Regrets Journal Summer Issue 2014
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No Regrets, a journal of poetry, prose and images about twists and turns in a search for love, meaning and community.
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Clayton Medeiros, Editor, Poet, Photographer, Collage Artist. Neil McKay (Johnny Trash)), Webmaster.
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Submissions are by invitation of the editor claymediros@aol.com
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Epublishing site with all issues http:/issuu.com/claymedeiros/docs
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Facebook fan page with No Regrets issues, weekly haikus, photographs and poems http://facebook.com/NoRegretsJournal
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Birds
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Birds flew close today, Quick wings, the flash Of yellow and red, A good day to soar, Glide the world Through finches’ eyes.
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Crows
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Crows clatter and Cackle across roof tops Shiny and black
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Juneuary
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Gray Juneuary afternoon Islands and bay indistinguishable In what should be a summer’s day
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Tomatoes cringe in their cages Bean seedlings turn tail Scurry underground
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Ferry Mysteries
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A rumbly engined truck trundles up the ramp of the boxy ferry, its broad, flat bottom unfazed by diesel belches as low gear is tested.
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The physics of this task, many toned truck, green and white ferry, evades my understanding until a successful departure overcomes all doubts.
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For Robert
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He sits at the table In the cool gray evening Outside the Red Light window. Speaks carefully chosen words, Rhythmic hands smooth gestures Before the words are put down. Inside the window, jazz plays.
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Nervous Clouds
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Anxious clouds hurry across Late afternoon blue skies Like Alice’s white rabbit Worried they are too late To participate In sweet sunset
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Reminiscence
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Along the early morning empty beach, Memory’s museum rises from the mist, My mother’s slim silhouette, a one piece Swim suit overseen by an arc of straw hat. My tan boy’s body bounds in to the waves Of surf pounded Horseneck Beach, Always part of the summer vacation At Aunt Charlotte’s, among Fairhaven’s Fireplace red brick walks, carefully laid By diligent immigrant hands as Elegant elm trees bless the day, Pose for my brownie camera.
Rhododendrons ! ! !
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Old rhododendrons Pink paper clusters Should be aromatic
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In all their finery Beloved of bumble bees In impossible flight
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The cloaked bud hides The naked flower Held hostage to
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Cool summer rains This deep gray day When my heart sings
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Windy green leaves Turn to dance among Summer high branches
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Spider Webs
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Strung between apple trees, The web catches my face in A night’s work across the walk From the front door to the street A labyrinth of hostas, catmint, oregano, day lilies. Bee choristers Welcome blue summer morning. Harbingers of Autumn soon to come, Ever bigger garden spiders will Prepare the eggs for newborns to Catch the wind for next year’s webs.