Days are the spars of a shipwreck. Overhead,
the constant fear of looking at the sun.
No more raft of promises. Instead,
a decent life, an audience of one.
Ted Mc Carthy is a poet and translator living in Clones, Ireland. His work has appeared in magazines in Ireland, the UK, Germany, the USA, Canada and Australia. He has had two collections published, ‘November Wedding’, and ‘Beverly Downs’. His work can be found on www.tedmccarthyspoetry.weebly.com.
She looked at me, turned,
hopped ahead, turned back,
jumped into the grass.
Then she lunged up,
snatched a dragonfly
right out of the air.
Don is a biomedical researcher living in Pittsburgh, PA. His poetry has appeared online at TuckMagazine.com, Uppagus Magazine, Vox Populi Sphere, and others, in print in Hanging Loose (1972) and Neurology, and in several print anthologies including in both English and Farsi in Persian Sugar in English Tea, Volumes I and III.
I swim around your boat for days before
I catch your eye. On deck, the sun so bright
it blocks your face just long enough to lure
my head around these blinding rays and right
into your pirate heart. My tail begins
to flip against the waves, and I cannot
pretend I don’t belong to you. The end
for me is not a hook or net. You caught
me with a look. My trembling hands descend,
before my captain now. Your hook overcomes
exposes half a girl. My piscine end
on board transformed, subdued. The sun
so warm against us while we rock and float.
New legs you touch first, always on this boat.
Kristin Garth is a poet from Pensacola. Her poetry has been featured in Anti-Heroin Chic, Fourth & Sycamore, Mookychick, Moonchild Magazine, Occulum, Faded Out and many other publications. Follow her on Twitter: @lolaandjolie and her website: kristingarth.wordpress.com.
Foxglove Journal 