Enter Home Planet News Poetry of Issue #4                        Page 24
                                   
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My Eye Was On The Moon

My eye was on the moon-
the cold, white full moon
on that bracing night in Autumn.
Eyes felt enlarged
seeing nothing but the moon.
Felt my face redden
in the cool air.
Regarding this solitary luminous body-
that white hole
in the black sky-
I wondered,
is this a portal
to another state of being?
I wondered,
“are there spirits up there,
suspended somewhere
in the dark and bright
infinite spaces?”

Then, I felt a tear.
One eye
sent a streak of warmth
down my face
into cold, clean skin.

        Eugene Ring


After A Fire In Winter

While snow fell and the wind blew,
we watched as the fire blazed
seemingly beyond control.
When the fire was finally subdued,
everyone felt relief.

That was last night.

Today, the destroyed building is regarded
in the bracing, winter air.
It’s the icicles, those inconspicuous icicles-
post-fire pennants beneath
charred beams-
looking like a monster’s teeth
that reminds how fire will devour.

The icicles gleam
with a terrible vitality
throughout the destruction
in the January sun.
The sinister-looking ice-daggers
are one mark after the beast
that the fire became.

Did any lucky ones survive?
Are they those who have lives
that now will never be the same?

        Eugene Ring


OVERHEARING WHAT'S NEXT

She's in the next booth, like
Talking with her friends, ya' know
Using words she thinks are fun
Talking with her friends, ya' know.

I want to scream, upgrade her tongue
Use Strunk & White to shame her some
But she's like in her teenage truth
Talking with her friends, ya' know.

Tony Herles__

Three Women
Three Women by ©Aldo Vigliarolo