Behind Mills Road Rabbits are now extinct and coyotes echo the long, plaintive cries of distant sirens.   After So still and white, she lies, her faint breath now tainted with the scent of rotting apples. I press my lips to hers, as if a kiss could break this spell, as if we could live. . .happily. . . ever. The Mathematics of Wind This air, an axiom. This breath, a theorem. Quod erat demonstrandum: proof of life. from Scifaikuest, May 2008 reprinted in the anthology Catching Breath (Lady Lazarus Books, 2008)

Return to the front page of this issue:   Amaze   Vol. 6, No. 2   Go to the Poets & Authors page for the poet's biographical sketch and email link. All poems are copyright © 2009 by their respective authors.