I was awakened

perhaps by animal sounds

outside our cabin

perhaps by the brilliance

of the full moon

lighting up the room.

I lay there listening

to the whispering breaths

of the others sleeping.

Then in the nearby bunk,

My friend turned

And her breathing harshened.

The other sleepers began to stir

Disturbed by the sound,

The noise, of her breathing.

As I touched her, just enough

to break the pattern,

the moon slipped behind a cloud.

She awoke in the dark,

turned and reached out blindly,

laying open her hand for me to take.

I placed my hand in hers

in answer only.

She held it as though

I had asked for companionship—

comfort in the night.

When I lifted away my hand.

she turned back into her dream.

In the morning

She would not remember.

But I had lain awake, listening

to the night quiet sounds

to the soft gentled breathings,

pondering the truth

of that one simple

unconscious gesture:

a reaching out…in the dark

offering…opening

so generous…so trusting

…so vulnerable…

 

GLASS RAIN Margaret Roxby

“FOR JESSIE” is possibly the author’s attempt to capture the day she, as a child, witnessed the tragedy of the death of a young boy who had been running along the tops of the freight cars (a common game) as the train slowly took on speed through town following a water stop. It is included for July 30, International Day of Friendship. The poem had no title when found.

REFRACTIONS Robert Roxby

“THE INDIAN’S LAMENT” is included for July 31, World Ranger Day. The author always was fascinated by American Indians. His interest began from living on their native lands along the Ohio River with his coal miner father. This poem appeared in the author’s book, Reflections on a Lifetime.

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS Kathleen Roxby

“THE GESTURE” describes a moment on a camping trip the author shared with an old school friend. It is included for July 30, International Day of Friendship.

Readers who write in response to one of the prompts listed each month in Splintered Glass, may see their work presented here on the last week of that month. Though poems are preferred, short prose work will also be considered for publication.

Guidelines for submission:

  1. List Splintered Glass prompt which inspired the work in the text of your email.
  2. Submit material to be published as Microsoft Word document. Submission should not be longer than one page. Editing will not be provided, please be careful.
  3. Include two brief sentences about the author. Example: Michael Whozits is the author of A Book and The Curl, a blog. He is a retired pilot and avid surfer.
  4. Submission must arrive no later than the 3rd Wednesday of the month in which the Splintered Glass prompt appeared. Only one reader’s submission will be selected for any given month.
  5. Send submission to karoxby@gmail.com.

 

Through a night dark

utterly, intensely black

that light will shine.

Always that small

one candle

aglow in the window,

I can see yet

in my mind’s eye.

Will I now

make it home?

This snow, so deep

yet, the candle still

flares bright

in my mind.

It must be there.

 

I am going home.

Look! A light shines.

Oh, happy day, happy me,

That candle burns.

I’m home, I’m home

And here, it’s Christmas.

 

 

 

 

Dream-starred silver light

Floats leaf shadows on grass sea

O, the summer moon

Assailed by a brilliance

Painful in its clarity

Ambushed by flavors

And sounds

In a sneak attack

Far, far from their source

 

Assaulted on all sides

Even by the touch of air

As subtle barometric shifts

Bear down on me

 

Driven inside to home

To one room, to a space of mind

For relief, a bit of quiet

In a concentration so deep

The world beyond shatters

Unheard, unseen, unfelt

Almost forgotten

 

Thus pursued from earliest

Childhood I find

It strange in others

That they seek out the extremes

Of awareness and mourn

The loss as their experiments

With hallucinogens

Relinquish them

Into moments, days, years

Of muted, past knowledge.

 

GLASS RAIN Margaret Roxby

“DREAM STARRED NIGHT” was untitled when found in the author’s papers. It is included for Hammock Day, July 20.

REFRACTIONS Robert Roxby

“CHRISTMAS NEAR” is included for July 25, Christmas in July. Cheer Up the Lonely Day. The poem appeared in his book, Reflections on a Lifetime.

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS Kathleen Roxby

“NOT SEEKING ANY HALLUCINOGENS” was written when LSD was making headlines promoted by Timothy Leary, among others. It is included for July 24, World Self-Care Day.

Readers who write in response to one of the prompts listed each month in Splintered Glass, may see their work presented here on the last week of that month. Though poems are preferred, short prose work will also be considered for publication.

Guidelines for submission:

  1. List Splintered Glass prompt which inspired the work in the text of your email.
  2. Submit material to be published as Microsoft Word document. Submission should not be longer than one page. Editing will not be provided, please be careful.
  3. Include two brief sentences about the author. Example: Michael Whozits is the author of A Book and The Curl, a blog. He is a retired pilot and avid surfer.
  4. Submission must arrive no later than the 3rd Wednesday of the month in which the Splintered Glass prompt appeared. Only one reader’s submission will be selected for any given month.
  5. Send submission to karoxby@gmail.com.

 

From wounds caused by harvesting,

Dust particles in the sunlight shine

When winds stir high the land.

The soothing ointment of rain,

Winter dressings of pure snow

Heal these cuts before spring comes

When life, again, renews earth’s bosom—

Similar in ways to man’s struggles

To reach the goals we need

To fulfill our hearts’ and souls’ desires

Keeping us feeling wholly alive.

 

A shadow falls

on the garden wall

there’s a strum of singing strings

and through the mist of shade and sound

a dove with folded wings

 

As in a dream

the white bird seems

an old remembered melody

perched there so still

on the garden wall

a strange white feathered song

 

In shadowed light

a sweet time past

within the heart may fall

 

Such fragile things

spark memory

a wisp of sound

a haunting song

a feathered dream with folded wings

on a sequestered wall