The Other by Sean Lance

Bluestone Review, 1998

Bluestone Review, 1998

I saw him again today
You know the one I’m talking about
I see him every day
I see his knowing eyes glaring through me
He knows the things I have done
He knows the things I’m doing
He knows all the things I will do
I know every contour of his face as he knows mine
I turn to him for help; he doesn’t
I go to him to comfort me; he won’t
I reach out with trembling hand to him
All I feel is the cold lifeless surface of the
Mirror that separates us

A Little Note About Us by Hillary Oliver

We are
two strange creatures
to see and feel and hear
what others do not know exists.
A book is a wonderland of contentment
and words are joys we write.

Bluestone Review, 1998

Bluestone Review, 199

To us love is a deepened thought
we feel but cannot speak
and thus attempt to
touch each others heart with a smile.
Snow-white snow is a quiet dream
and hot tea is our pleasure.
We are geniuses of friendship
insanely full of life.
Music is a cloud we sail upon
and the moon our diamond sun.
Cold air brings our hands together
and gentle joy our lips.
And we often talk of little delights
like peanut butter is sticky
and snowflakes have ears.