Frozen In Time
by Janice Fine
It's cold for South Florida in March.
Outside, at Max's, the ghost of Mizner sits still.
The wind doesn't move one hair on her head.
Blond-red, bubble-gum clumped - her brush stolen-
A flower child of the 60's left behind:
Long skirts, dolmen sleeves, silver sandals,
a scarecrow in oversized clothes.
She begs from older women only.
Says, "I'm not a panhandler."
She's not -- just a woman who occasionally
needs a cup of coffee,
a woman with a run of bad luck.
I slowly approach -- give her money.
She says, "I interviewed yesterday. I'll get the job."
Another woman claims I wasted my money
like she wasted her money:
"She's a faker, no grungy, homeless drifter.
She looks well.
Look at her bag, Bloomy's. Maybe she can afford
to buy us lunch."
We stroll back nonchalantly, peer into the open,
shopping bag
Empty.
At Max's the ghost of Mizner sits still outside -
Always on the outside...
She's cold in South Florida this March.
SPECIAL CONTEST WINNER: Sestina
Dining On The Fly
By Maureen Ford
The beautiful butterfly flitters with grace
From aromatic herb to bright fragrant blossom
Soundlessly flying through sunshine and shadow
Avoiding the pitfalls of snap-traps and webs
Hidden in plain sight to snare a good meal
Of grasshopper or moth or cricket or fly.
The silk-weaving spider constructs for the fly
A network of delicate threads, made with grace
From iridescent secretions, to capture a meal
Of various insects that fly near a blossom
And travel through spaces with gossamer webs
Of filmy and flimsy snares in the shadow.
The praying mantis humbly waits in the shadow
To clasp a moth or a cricket on the fly
Busy buzzing bees beware of the webs -
Soft-woven wisps, while working with grace
Depositing pollen, with duty, on blossoms
Not lured by the flytrap in wait for a meal.
The common fly is soon snared for a meal
Stuck in the tangle that dangles in the shadow
Deprived of its freedom to soar over blossoms.
The hungry spider taunts the frightened fly
The arachnid performs her dance with grace
Advancing and retreating through the web.
The sensitive spider feels the vibes in her webs
When insects are caught - a nourishing meal
Surrounded by threads, ensnared without grace
Wrapped like a package in the dim shadow
After twisting and turning and trying to fly
To escape to the soft-tissue feel of the blossom.
The beautiful butterfly rests on the blossom
With her wings erect, keeping free of the webs
While midges and moths and mosquitoes all fly
And often fall prey to some trap for a meal
Tricked by the scent in the sun and the shadow
Slyly interrupted in their last flight of grace.
'Tis pleasant to fly from the herb to the blossom
To wing it with grace while avoiding the webs
Enjoying a sweet meal in the coolness of shadow.