Two Poems, by Colleen Coyne
Long, wide pass of the blades, across glass and built-up snow-gut.
Long, wide pass of the blades, across glass and built-up snow-gut.
Allene Nichols lives in Dallas, Texas, where she teaches at Richland College and at the University of Texas at Dallas. She is an avid traveler and always travels with her camera. Her photos have appeared in Lifting the Sky: Southwestern Haiku and Haiga. Her poetry has appeared in many journals [...]
Photographs
What does it mean to be alive?
Google, find growths that are pale and stringy, that looked like fat hairs the one time he let you see them.
We drive through the parking area and continue down to the pond. There’s not another soul anywhere to be seen or heard.
Another week had passed since her hair progressed from green to blue to indigo, and she was sent home to await violet, the final shade.
But as I look around at everyone in my house, I realize we all look the same.
There are days when I can’t look at death in the face. Today was one of those and I didn’t know
I was fascinated by this commitment to preferring a mixed virtual world to the real one, but perhaps I ought withhold judgment till I go a full day without playing Wizards Unite.