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                                 False Advertising


                                 Unrequited Love


Dark falls on the Bethpage Bike Path.


Opposing riders loom inattentive from the gloom.


I activate a yellowish-green 120 flash-per-minute


    warning light,


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 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.


Gladys Henderson

may awards won (1st place), member of the L.I. Poets House Committee, art teacher, one book published

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