"A Beautiful Day" by Paul Connor.
© Please do not reproduce without artist's permission.
THREE POEMS
by A.J. Huffman
It’s Raining in My Brain
and I know I need an umbrella, but
I am plagued with ancient anxieties
that come, attached as stigma to the idea
of opening one inside. Technically, I suppose,
my head is not a house. It has no doors,
but eyes are poetically considered windows
to the soul, so there is some correlation
that can easily slip into the conundrum, and
the one thing I cannot handle is more bad luck.
An Ethereal Motion
influences the fog, causes
involuntary emulation of steam,
rising undeterred. The green is
abandoned, over, exposed to sun-
seared alightment. Excessive
growth is anticipated.
Because Seashells
are temporary
domiciles, beach-front properties with panoramic views,
the transient dwellers migrate, gypsies dancing
from calcium tent to calcium tent.
Waking at dawn, they feel
the pull of ocean’s leash, yanking
them from sedentary stability, cannot resist
a day of summer’s heat against fully-exposed body
as they sweep across sand, searching for tomorrow’s shelter.
A.J. Huffman’s poetry, fiction, haiku, and photography have appeared in hundreds of national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, and Offerta Speciale, in which her work appeared in both English and Italian translation. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press.
