Conversation: at the end

At the end of a rainbow
there is a sky, that
only two
who love each other can see.

After the sun's halcyon glow,
there's a tear in the surviving azure.
A light until the end of days.
It cries in one place for the love of two

Gary Thompson, Bloomington

TLA'S Hand

Resting at last
in the embrace of my black leather recliner,
dosing,
slipping into a deeper repose,
peaceful,
without the heartache of grief
that consumed me for so long,
I stir,
awaken to the sight of a half-finished Drambuie,
think of you and feel you close in spirit,
comforting,
offering your hand to hold
with its gentle squeeze
that signals you are here for me
when I need you most.

W. F. (Bill) Cento, West St. Paul

For my valentine

I walk onto the plain of life
and scan the vast horizon:
a private circle surrounding me
and what I am.
My inner self,
straining to fill the voids,
is reaching out to you
asking you to be its own...

My love for you, forged, tested and refined
over the span of fruitful years, 
is still untarnished and unique.
No matter that turmoils
wrench my tormented heart -
its allegiance is still yours
to cherish or... to cast away.

This special day,
- a day of re-call and renewal, -
allows me to restate
that which you have always known.
Darling,
if what I say has any value,
it touches your heart and hand
as you are walking in the sun...

February 11, 1977

Eric Chalimonczyk, Moorhead