david palmer

The I35 Median

Meadows of gold.
Patches of silver.
Oceans of shimmering blades.

The sun strikes.
The wind whips.
Creating fields of metallic waves.

Forces propelling the motions:
Billowing, bending, bowing, and dancing.
Gratifying, inspiring, and enhancing,
The human eye.

Giant

I do think I've grown a lot in these times of troubles. But the troubles and bad luck have gone on for far too long. It has been two years now, and I think emotionally I am now a giant. If life problems are like steroids for emotional growth, than I would probably have overdosed by now. There's only so much one person can take.

The Wind

Today I heard the wind whistle in my ears.

As I walked through a narrow brick passage,
the wind pucked its lips and blew downwards
as if trying to make music with an empty glass bottle.

And in its attempts, it was successful
because I heard that same, familiar, low pitched tone
that is sung from lips on empty glass bottles and narrow brick passages.

weed

luis robles

Summer Night Walks

There is one great thing about the suburbs in the summer:
the vastness of the area, the evenly paved sidewalks, and the silence of the evenings allow for great summer night walks alone.

Everyone is in bed by ten, which times perfectly with the coming of the cool evening air.
The straight paved sidewalks allow for swift determined strides with swaying hips.
The sole klunking footsteps can be heard throughout, mixed with the familiar chirping sounds of a cricket.

Bunnies run ahead, startled by the incoming stranger.
Thoughts clear and confidence gains as the steps proceed; a march to one's own mind.

In a place as dreary and uniform as the suburban community, it is hard to think that one can get any peace of mind,

But it is there...
in those peaceful, inspiring summer night walks.