A Sample from The Editor: A.J. Huffman

The Trees Breathe

for me in the silence of the sky . . .

As I claw my way about this jungled past, I land

too rooted to freely believe the light[‘s life] can reach me.

I am my own camouflage – bleeding streams of [ever]green

denial to cover my tracks.  I desire the stagnant

steam of this other dawn.  It clings to my lungs –

a muffling glove – but does not dare to trip my mind.  Up

is blind:  a f[l]ightless border I dare not crowd.  I gather

weeds (possibly) to seed wings, but my arms

are ti[r]ed.  To the wind

I scream:  Nothing is balanced!  Backward,

I stumble over [star?]crossed beams.  Of blight

or sight . . . whichever is able to keep me

solid[ly nailed to the floor].

A.J. Huffman is a poet and freelance writer in Daytona Beach, Florida.  She has previously published four collections of poetry: The Difference Between Shadows and Stars, Carrying Yesterday, Cognitive Distortion, and . . . And Other Such Nonsense.  She has also published her work in national and international literary journals such as Avon Literary Intelligencer, Writer's Gazette, and The Penwood Review.  Find more about A.J. Huffman, including additional information and links to her work at http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000191382454 and https://twitter.com/#!/poetess222.