Current Issue               Submissions               Round Table

 






   

 

PAST MARIBOR, YUGOSLAVIAN MOUNTAINS AT SUNSET

The light is a wild flower
That never had
A stem

Its leaves
Are the dark glint
Of two lovers
On a disappearing road

The petals are colored
River green and waterfall silver

Its pollen
The raw gold
Of a rock

Its roots
Under the hoof tracks
Of cows

      — Duane Locke