Dreaming of Yoga, by Joan Mazza

Dreaming of Yoga
by Joan Mazza

I’m back at yoga class in Fort Lauderdale,
early, as usual, to stake out my place with a towel,
discover I’ve forgotten mine and choose one
from a closet—damp and flecked with glitter.
The phone rings and no one’s there to answer,
so I do, say, This is Joan, realize I should have said,
Yoga Today! in a cheery voice. The caller is distraught,
speaking in a code I understand. His wife is pregnant;
they’re pondering abortion. I tell him not to wait
too long, but don’t advise. What does your wife want?
He doesn’t answer. I’m sorry I’ve answered the phone,
am out of my league. When I turn, the whole class
has arrived. Someone has taken my space. The room’s
too crowded, the teacher/owner schmoozing,
holding forth with narcissistic nonsense tales,
not directing postures. He promises refunds
for everyone who stays, but not to those who’ve
left already. I want to leave! Here comes that old
dream cliché without lucidity. Where’s my purse?
The women at the desk won’t let me look inside
their cabinet, say it’s not in there. I don’t remember
where I placed it when I took that call. I step outside
to find large shelves with towels, clothes, and purses,
but not mine. They’re on the street, unprotected. Won’t
someone snatch a purse? Distressed, I wake. As usual,
I’ve identified another flim-flam and must escape. But
it’s just my daily Trumpmare. No need for alarm.

Joan Mazza has worked as a microbiologist and psychotherapist, and taught workshops on understanding dreams and nightmares. She is the author of six books, including Dreaming Your Real Self, and her poetry has appeared in Rattle, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Prairie Schooner, Poet Lore, and The Nation. She lives in rural central Virginia. http://www.JoanMazza.com

The Night of Wind and Stars, by Charles Halsted

The Night of Wind and Stars
by Charles Halsted

A towering cypress touches
the morning star, stands guard
over the sleeping town, its
ancient church and steeple.

Whirling winds tearing across the sky
command dominance over the scene,
push the waning stars aside, threaten
to obscure the brilliant moon.

Thoughts of suicide enter my mind while I
paint the violent scene from my top-floor
window in the asylum at Saint-Remy. Should
my thoughts persist, I will walk to the field
on the left, yield my life to a shotgun blast.


Charles Halsted is a retired academic physician who obtained his poetry education through twelve on-line classes from Stanford Continuing Studies and from six three-day retreats at Squaw Valley and Carmel CA, Fishtrap, OR, and Taos, NM. To date, he has published 57 poems in 32 different poetry journals as well as one chapbook, Breaking Eighty, and two books, Extenuating Circumstances and On Razor-Thin Tires.

Daydreams, by Michael J. Leach

by Michael J. Leach

daydreams of distant suns
daydreams of dear loved ones

daydreams of yellow fields
daydreams of better yields

daydreams of tractor tyres
daydreams of fading fires

daydreams of kangaroos
daydreams of open zoos

daydreams of summer sports
daydreams of her in shorts

daydreams of beachside caves
daydreams of crashing waves

Michael J. Leach is an Australian academic and writer. His poems reside in literary and scientific journals, such as Cordite, Red Wolf Journal, and Medical Journal of Australia, as well as various anthologies—Still You (Wolf Ridge Press, 2019), One Surviving Poem (ICOE Press, 2019), and No News (Recent Work Press, 2020). Michael’s debut poetry collection is Chronicity (Melbourne Poets Union, 2020). He lives on unceded Dja Dja Wurrung Country and acknowledges the traditional custodians of the land.