Issue Four

Summer 2012



The chain uncoupled at its weakest link, 
and that should be the end of us; and yet,
across a void of miles and years we think
in patterns set too deeply to forget.
You populate the crannies of my mind,
leaving your trace in everything I do.
Your words and my ideas are so entwined
I hardly know who thought them first, or who
said what, or if you're sending me vibrations
on airborne currents.  Is it déjà vu
or just a range of shared associations
cuing thoughts in me you're thinking too?
A tenuous connection—still I find
a presence on the wind and know it's you.


Carol A. Taylor



bird of paradise flower