No Regrets Winter 2017 Issue 20

No Regrets Journal

Winter 2017 Issue 20

No Regrets, a journal of poetry, prose and images about the exploration of being and meaning.

Clayton Medeiros, Editor, Poet, Photographer claymedeiros@aol.com Neil McKay (Johnny Trash), Webmaster Submissions are by invitation of the editor Epublishing http://issuu.com/claymedeiros/docs Facebook page No Regrets Journal, haikus poems and photographs https://www.facebook.com/NoRegretsJournal




Sweet Home Galaxy big bang detritus scatters to an ever receding boundary infinity in all directions strange to think that our day to day horizons east west north south meaningless in a limitless universe of time and space




String Theory I do not feel any strings but I wonder now and then when shadows dance to immanent sunset if I too dance to some songs I never hear written by someone I’ve never met who lives somewhere I’ve never seen




Winter Day dour December light trees watch and wait suspended from heaven rooted to the earth solstice witness to many celebrations by the varied faithful bon fires and crucifixions faint shadows disappear into night’s domain ancient gods of darkness there will be no star tonight




snow flakes tease morning in their slow careful descent against winter gray




empty brown seed pods here and there tatters of snow leaden gray morning




somber morning light shadow puppets on the wire black crow silhouettes




Thought a thought rises like a blue sky reflection released from the bottom of a well suddenly freed to roam through the day among errands for groceries jazz on the car radio the thought rambles through the hours




End of Day the light abandons the sky darkness creeps toward the house on the hill with fireplace glow the door locks out the night in this new moon time




the sudden night fall an avalanche of darkness framing bright Venus




Evening dusk clings to the sky looks reluctantly for the edge of night its brief role written out of the ever darkening script that creates this day’s third and final act




Reading traffic murmurs outside the window a discontinuous muttered message I lean forward in the chair hopeful for a glimmer of meaning then all is quiet for the stop light




enlisting the breeze the book opened to the page it wished me to read




Abandoned Cottage the cottage door stands ajar beyond the porch’s dark wooden stairs edges worn by boots shoes and sandals voices reverberate against abandoned walls the wooden floors hold dance steps an array of scuffs and stains on the wide fir boards




Good Night darkness climbs the tall trees up and down the quiet street time to rest from this day children chose stories for the bed time read not quite ready yet to say good night stories first open the sleepy door for dreams to come