July 30, 2014 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION








Shari Jo LeKane-Yentumi



Moon flowers bloomed in their translucent glory


against humid darkness. I tasted night air


and inhaled stale dope as you told me your story


with cool reservation. I tried not to stare.


It started as casual conversation,


but music came on and you asked me to dance


to a slow Latin beat, and without hesitation


I followed your lead in a rhythmic romance.


We swayed to the samba that came from your jeep


when you brought my face closer and gave me a kiss.


It lasted as long as the song, and I deeply


relaxed in your bliss. Should the world end like this?


Dawn woke the birds who sang morning’s first prayer


and ushered an end to the midnight affair.









Shari Jo LeKane-Yentumi



From the very last stroke of the dancing alarm clock,


when dreamscapes are melting to sweet reverie


in the sieve of subconscious where spirits unlock,


there’s a synergy building for delivery.


Ushered in fresh like a strong handyman,


with a rustic world view and gestalt bravery,


– Step, two, three, back, two, three – just like Candy land –


If the Lord is deceased, is the Widow endowed?


Gently she rests, singing love to the Ottoman.


Overstuffed daydreams in bluejeans are allowed,


when will this figment assume incarnation –


enrapturing mainstays to lay claim out loud?


Beggarly trust in the evaluation


of romantic love is an eternal plight


for all who may end up in the realization


that time waltzes on in the midst of the fight


while we’re dancing on, keeping step, doing right.



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