Our stories flow anew
Along dog-eared pages
– Adam Rudden
I stood and watched as here they fell,
some jumped freely thinking this life was hell,
mixed up feelings within their head,
lost to the river the floating dead,
memories remain with those bereft,
all were loved before here they left,
on moonlight beams you can hear their song,
in death there is no right nor wrong.
– Christy O’Donnell
Dusk by the lakeside,
Waters gently lap the shore.
A breeze weaves through tall reeds,
To dance amid soft mountain shadows.
A strawberry moon rises,
Behind a copse of Oak,
Rolling smoky skies.
In the hush of midnight,
Bare branches reach to the stars,
Weaving the falling darkness,
Into a night of dreams.
– Maire Morrissey Cummins
Photos by Radka Bukovska: