Linda Marie Van Tassell (Lynchburg, Virginia)

The curtain rose on the stage, and I saw you standing there.
The lights above were shining down upon your ink black hair.
My heart proudly skipped a beat when you looked into my eyes,
and I felt myself tremble then for what I felt arise.

The women all about me were whispering sweet and low
of how much you looked like a prince within the stage-light glow.
I secretly smiled to myself, warmed by their devotion,
unseen in the shadowed curve that circled like the ocean.

I gazed upon you as the host introduced you by name.
I felt my temperature rise as though a heated flame.
Walking over to the mike, you quick-coughed to clear your throat.
All the room was silent then as you spoke the words you wrote.

paris elegy
by larry jaffe

her reflection
forever imprinted
in the looking glass
despite her leaving
for pigalle
he missed her terribly
they skated on
the thin ice of decadence
for so long it seemed
like second nature
to seek danger
in his safe autocratic fashion
nevertheless he denied nothing
and faced her empty mirror
every day his face in his hands
cushioning the blow of her loss
the seine no longer romantic hideaway
they tell me they see through your gossamer wings
and you cannot fly

The crazy winds of cheer and applause filtered through the room.
I was lost inside of love, the lull of passion in bloom.
You gave a bow and thanked the crowd, then waved your hands good-night.
You stepped off the stage and came to me to my heart's delight.

My breath was held inside of me like quiet little bells,
like the leaves floating on the face of deep and silent wells.
You placed your hand under my chin and looked into my eyes,
and I felt myself tremble then for what I felt arise.

My love was reaching out to you like hands across the Seine;
and all at once, I knew my wings would lift to fly again.
The night, the world, and two bright stars glisten over the sea.
It is the secret passageway we find in poetry.