Echoes of Departure

The swallows fly South when harsh winds blow

But I stay here, nowhere to go; Wish I could also wind borne be, Or like a driftwood float towards the sea.

The vacant boughs of willows mourn

How brief was love your sojourn;

The sun leaps and drowns in the west

While this sorrow lingers in my chest.

Like wisps of smoke my days dissipate

As on winter's harp notes lie in wait

For spring to melt the frosted strings

So the strains may soar upon love's wings.

As the lights flicker in the darkening sky

I pine and ponder, heave a sigh,

Why is parting long and love so brief, Dwelling forever in skyscrapers of grief? R.S.

The Final Break

There is a part of me that will forever regret walking away from you that final time. In the moment, I felt powerful. This time, I was breaking you. But the heart is a cruel, cruel master because all these years later I’m the one still grieving.

LJ Rue

It Was Blue

Her captivating blue iris, reminded me of clear summer sky, white clouds stay adrift, reflecting in clear glass lake. She wore a blue dress, flowing freely behind every step, as she danced along to a Latin jazz, her long hair unfurls into a mess. And I kept going back to that summer, glancing to that blurred out memory, fading away with the dwindling down time, reminded of a moment of could be and should be. She stared with a cold soul right at me-unmoving, her fingers knotted into mine tightly-praying, as what left of her whittle away-damaging, tears rolled down endlessly on my cheek-regretting.

I let her life wasted away, in a box ‘I’ called home, in a cage ‘I’ created, in a life ‘I’ wished for, not seeing how she wither, with the arrival of fall.

Zeidan Naqeeb

Gentle Winds

Once upon a gentle wind, I heard an air so fair

My eyes, in search from whence it came spied her standing near So near to me that I could see her flawless countenance

Framed by golden rays of sunshine, swaying softly in the wind

Her eyes shone like diamonds, their brilliance was divine Her beam luminescent, could pierce the darkest night

In that fleeting moment my heart skipped a beat Her beauty left me breathless my tongue left in retreat I stood there in wrapped silence, lost in empty air

When suddenly she vanished, as though she was never there And with her went my lovesick heart aching to be near.

So, I set about my quest, one that shall have no end

Until I find that melody that exists on gentle winds

John Dennis David Keane

Bio: John is a poet and playwright. He was born and raised in The Bronx and currently resides in Westchester County, New York. He was the corecipient of the inaugural, Mark Plesent commission from Working Theater in N.Y.C. He has written several short, one act plays that have been performed in N.Y.C. You can find John on Instagram @Jkay____