Friends and Strangers
There are friends
and those I once
called friends, but
now count as strangers.
And with regard to the
latter, I won’t miss them;
rather, I’ll miss who I
thought they were.
The Half-Light of Dawn
How peaceful here on the porch, the mind
as yet uncluttered with the day’s agenda;
How sweet the ostinato call of the Song
Sparrow, three notes and a trill;
How rare to step outside ordinary time
and rest in the moment;
How magical, to sit and drift and dream
in the muted, half-light of dawn.
(Howard Brown lives in Lookout Mountain, Tennessee. His poetry has appeared in The Beautiful Space, Printed Words, Tuck Magazine, Burningword Literary Journal, Blue Collar Review, Pure Slush Magazine, Old Hickory Review, and Devil’s Party Press. He has published short fiction in various print and online journals.)
The Beautiful Space-