Sherbrooke Forest | By Penny Whetton
Tree branches bend,
scarred by age.
Beaten by the storm,
many hit the ground
amid piles of leaves.
Without a proper burial,
no one mourns their loss.
The fallen won’t be forgotten
as replacements take root
in the shade of the tall trees.
Sunshine filters through the forest,
lighting the way for the future.
We wait for the night,
dry from the sun,
weak to our roots.
We yearn for moisture,
We wait for the night,
for the moonlight
to ease our pain.
We wait for the dew
to quench our thirst,
to replenish our souls.
We wait for the sun
to lift its fiery head
and begin its daily ritual.
We are ready
to face the new day
with arms lifted.
Brutal winds follow close on my heels.
Thunder and lightning join the crusade.
Fluorescent lights paint the night sky
In rings of orange, yellow, and red.
A vortex of horror in unending circles
Makes its way to the town of Oasis.
I wait with a sword in hand,
Secure in the knowledge that Wolf won’t win.
The Watchers have joined the battle.
I can see them on the hill beyond.
Their raincoats flap in the wind,
Revealing their hidden weapons.
We protect Linda from the devil,
Standing firm in the fighting winds.
The Father clutches his bible of spells
To help cast the evil from this town.
Humans, vampires, and human vampires
Have come together as one.
The last battle on this earthly planet
Will determine the fate of us all.
Linda holds onto her friends,
Huddled together in the raging winds.
Will she choose wisely?
Will she choose me above The Dead?
The time has come for the showdown.
Time has slowed to a stop.
We raise our weapons above our heads
As we wait for evil to make its final appearance.
Wolf sports a new body.
I still recognize his deadly soul.
A new package for an old one
Does not change the battle to be won.
Our games have just begun.
THE DEAD GAME
By Rhaevyn Hart
Do you feel empty inside?
You have nothing to offer the world.
No words of wisdom to share.
No pretty pictures to paint.
No music to play.
This isn’t true.
Everyone has something to offer.
Let no one make you feel unimportant.
Each of us has an important role to play.
What is yours?
Full of worries and contradictions,
it blasts away any chance of peace.
Thoughts jumbled in cobwebs,
lining halls of utter despair.
Bells ring along curved walls,
warnings to take care.
One hole is filled
as another emerges.
A shovel can’t do the job,
won’t save me from my pride.
Sleep, be my savior,
refresh my state of mind.
Bring hope to this desert landscape,
full of worries and contradictions.