Poetry of Issue #3                        Page 2
Table of Contents Click page 1 Click page 2 Click page 3 Click page 4 Click page 5 Click page 6 Click page 7 Click page 8 Click page 9 Click page 10 Click page 11 Click page 12 Click page 13 Click page 14 Click page 15 Click page 16 Click page 17 Click page 18 Click page 19 Click page 20 Click page 21 Click page 22 Click page 23 Click page 24 Click page 25 Click page 26 Click page 27 Click page 28 Click page 29 The Blog Bog The Mag Rack	GHOSTS September the leaves already float against the window like ghosts bringing dreams of places you never intended where time is kept by bells some forgotten or broken items disappear into thin night a glass set on a table a teacup in a saucer windchimes in dead calm the old floorboards creak and pop whine of old timbers a sigh through the walls any of these sounds might move the house marks a passage images frail and fragile sometimes a breeze brings a slight scent of age of clear blue sky when the windows shudder I pull the blanket over my head like a cowl let the cold wind pass by it's all about the dark sometimes I stay up all night waiting                             Gregg Weatherby	A DREAM OF SNOW Winter lake effect is light spring snow is difficult treacherous breaks under foot in this dream the walk is halting lurching or lost in a desert of dazzling white animal tracks clear as day disappear in winddrifts the briars fold away a path to a stand of pines dogs or coyotes track across the snow chasing deer some bird I do not recognize I head back there are no tracks perfect white walking is hard there is no place to stop lean sit down houses start as ridge breaks to road some dark spot becomes animal watches me up the rise moves when I move crows complain and cars in the distance the snow wrings itself out drips to streams under thin ice the banks turn black along the highways dark remembers rivers swell days lengthen this morning when I woke were there birds the time come round it is no good anymore to be snow                            Gregg Weatherby___	GLOBAL WARMING Ten straight days no sun and cold so cold it radiates off coats even inside we huddle against it seems winter gets colder every year maybe just old age creeping in through the cracks summers cooler too maybe another ice age cometh the next great extinction man oh man still the deserts push into verdancy ice caps melt northwest passage free and clear glaciers disappear islands sink in rising seas our lives thin blood cools so the hour grows late bank the fire try to find some comfort some grace                            Gregg Weatherby__