Here and Gone – by Robert Manaster

Here and Gone

Purple and white wood asters,
goldenrod, long dappled grass,

dabbles of late summer's red
zinnias in a hidden strip of yard —

all ripple, and I feel
the pull of tendril

in your voice. I know. How I wish
I could save you — this voice, this yard, this

slow roll of wind through me — revive your tone
of autumn red that's pressed and pressed upon.

Robert Manaster's poetry has appeared in numerous journals including Rosebud, Birmingham Poetry Review, Image, Maine Review, and Spillway. His co-translation of Ronny Someck's The Milk Underground was awarded the Cliff Becker Book Prize in Translation. He's also published poetry book reviews in such publications as Rattle, Colorado Review, and Massachusetts Review.

Statement by Featured Artist, Shelley Thomas: Description is sensual and evocative. There is a desire to hold onto the moment, to cup golden hour light in my hand. I imagine autumn’s runes at the shoreline: milkweed pod casing, blood-tinged lancet of sumac, the banners of Fall.
Art: “Autumn Palette,” 2016 (Lake Ontario, Canada)