Contributions by Tobi Cogswell
Camouflage
Our hiking boots have red laces.
Mine, because I want to look young.
Yours, because you are an artist
making a statement against the
browns the greens the grays.
We crunch large leaves together,
leave jagged mosaics behind
to be blown…
Two Poems
The Beachcomber Pleads the Platonic to His Wife
Swear I’d only kissed
her hand in friendship –
white wine cooling my
lips on her pale wrist,
luminous as pearls,
her laugh shy, softly
sweet, and nostalgic
for what…