• Annual Literary Reviews •
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Dark falls on the Bethpage Bike Path.
Opposing riders loom inattentive from the gloom.
I activate a yellowish-green 120 flash-per-minute
Flashing brilliant and strong; the color of fireflies.
Hundreds of fireflies suddenly respond.
I’ve never seen so many at once.
They must think I’m some kind of stud.
Christopher B. Garvey
Patent attorney, scientist, sailing instructor, one chapbook published
THE IMAGE ON THE WINDOW
The heat of my body
traces an image
on the transparent pane,
of a startled bird spilling
her wings over the glass.
I cup my fingers
and press my ear closer,
hovering between two worlds
and I hear my mother’s voice.
Out of nowhere,
perhaps an eclipse of heaven,
I can see and hear her clearly,
the outlines of her cheek and hands,
she is happy and smiling.
She looks in my direction.
How could this be,
two worlds casting their shadows
one onto the other?
The heat of my body cools,
and images on the glass evaporate,
nonetheless, they were.
Beyond this window
there is a garden,
where my mother walks
the flowered edge.
may awards won (1st place), member of the L.I. Poets House Committee, art teacher, one book published
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