Ragdoll

A Poem by Michael Estabrook

Suddenly a hawk drops out of the sky onto
the baby rabbit nibbling grass in our backyard
its talons digging in as it tosses
the baby about like a proverbial ragdoll.

I run downstairs and out the back door yelling
scaring the startled hawk back up
into the trees leaving his limp prey behind.

I hold the little creature in my hands
so helpless, so soft and warm, but no blood
nothing broken that I can tell
and he’s breathing but barely.

I place him carefully beneath some vines
and weeds when suddenly
he bursts into the underbrush – gone in a flash!

Must’ve been in shock or playing dead
but now back where he belongs.
Hope he learned his lesson and stays out of sight
from the demon beast spying from the treetops.

Muse

A Poem Letter by Michael Estabrook

But seriously, do I have to write a poem every time

there’s a space in my day: at the doctor’s office, the airport, the DMV,

during the kids’ basketball practice, soccer and softball.

Pull out my notebook, push on my glasses, click my pen into action.

(I’m old-fashioned, no fancy-schmancy electronic recording gadgetry for me.)

No doubt the literary world will be fine

if I simply sit and do nothing other than stare into the space around me.

But the Muse, it’s her fault I tell you, she’s always crowding around me

sticking her nose in my business, nudging me hissing in my ear:

“Come on man move it I got things to say.”

Diving Head First into a Pile of Dead Leaves

A Poem by Chris Butler

I’m just the fall
that’s hoping for a spring.

For My Four Year Old Daughter

A Poem by Seymour Brownstein

Little lady climbing all over me,
One would believe I’m a ramp,
Grand hugger would be more appropriate, maybe,
I love her the little scamp.

Reaching heights of delight I never could reach,
Her kiss on my cheek like morning dew wine,
all made possible with one little screech,
Little Pami, at four years old, mine.