Poetry Page:
Cardinal
Snow falls with a whisper through the trees,
the resonance of the forest becomes amplified.
The eye expands over the lay of the land,
seeking,
far past the brown and whites at rest.
To the delight,
in the display,
of the red leaves of winter.
Sound splinters in the hush of feathered wings,
a calling from branch and bramble
and tree.
These are the spirits of the season.
--Cindy Maciejunes
Pataskala, OH
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You
The sun moves to the west
In a world so far away.
Throwing colors upon the clouds
In the end of another day.
As the colors fade from the sky
So another day can be born
I remember a time
Which makes me feel so forlorn.
How many years
How fast they went by
As if time took upon wings
How time so fast can fly.
How a memory can return
Of a dream that died
Or something that was never was
And to myself I lied.
That eternity could be captured
And made to stay within the warm embrace
Of first love, the most painful
Which lays sweet dreams to waste.
Perhaps it was like a fading sunset
The colors thrown upon the sky
To be captured for a moment
And to let the moment pass by.
First love like a sunset
Mistaken for a sunrise
Today it came back to me
And lingered in my eyes.
That which I never forgot.
-- Nicholas Campanella