Congratulations to Bindweed contributor, Ann Christine Tabaka on her latest poetry collection, I no longer hear you sing.
We wish you all the best with your new book, Ann Christine!
Jim went outside to sit in his yard and enjoy the night. The full moon was bright that night, unusually bright. Jim sat and watched it with curiosity, as it appeared to grow larger with each passing minute, until it felt as if it enveloped him in its glow. He fell asleep on the ground.
The next morning Jim awoke in his room, walked over to the window and looked out at a distant blue planet, Earth. It looked so beautiful and different from the sterile environment that he inhabited. He wondered what it would be like to live there.
It was strange,
running into you at the grocery store.
You remembered me from high school,
almost fifty years ago.
You looked familiar,
but I never was good t remembering names.
You stopped me to ask
if I was okay.
I was mumbling to myself
when I walked by you.
I was just upset over something trivial.
I even forget what it was now.
We chatted a while,
then smiled and made our pleasant good-byes.
I did not have many friends in high school
I was a bit of an outcast.
Age is the great game changer,
making friends of strangers,
and strangers of friends.
Walking away I was glad that you stopped me.
Talking helped me forget my troubles.
It also made me think,
how many people do I pass everyday
that I once knew
and how many have left us behind.
Ann Christine Tabaka was born and lives in Delaware. She is a published poet, an artist, a chemist, and a personal trainer. She loves gardening, cooking, and the ocean. Chris lives with her husband and two cats. Her poems have been published in numerous national and international poetry journals, reviews, and anthologies. Chris has been selected as the resident Haiku poet for Stanzaic Stylings.