dreamtime issue

three small poems by Rae Pater



Gone



What is there to write of you
now that you're gone?

That you come to me in dreams
and we sit, face to face,
legs folded together,
cuddled round each other,
and talk like happy children -
words tripping impetuous -

till I waken to that old
twelve hour, sixty minute clock
at my bedside.




























The Blonde in Me



lip freak,
shirtless and hands on knees.

if I roll up my eyes
and purse my brunette charms

will you scoop a kiss or two
into my pinny?






















Eden's Poems



each verse so precise

like apparently random
windings of vine
and flower

shaped to form
a small
hand-carved
elephant

a miracle of creation
and inside it another
and yet another






{C)Rae Pater














hermit faces south


i do
not know this life-
camaraderie, these
people and i do not think i
want to


--anonymous












from tasha klein




- death - i taste your black
pill - the lips behind - your dove -


















from burning moon


I had a small poem -
words soft, like candles
after mass