Random Toss There’s that old story of a mass of starfish washed up on shore and the girl who wanders along by moonlight, lifting one randomly and tossing it back to the sea, a gratuitous act of salvation. The child’s determined grasp and intention to rescue apportions another length of life. The lift and tug by one limb, four others yearning to follow, singled out and soaring like a solitary spark above worlds of rock and ocean. Lucky trajectory, hurtling through salt air, the creature resembles cold stars fathoms higher. Terrified to take flight, goose bumps thumping whiter on the way home, she pumps like an octopus gesture of the hand till a splash signals return. With a smack of recognition, she slow sinks dodging fish dentures as grains wash free of the seams and miniscule crabs skitter into a floating clot of kelp that passes through depths like a green cloud. Far is the beach where they all blended in, a spread-eagled reach for solidarity as sea-mist threatened would-be lungs. Now, the sand floor regains its charge, the centered mouth sips in sustenance, stretching for the next wave. /////// October Ride October rolls to its close like a busted vespa, sand still huddled in the foot holds, wheels sagging over clanks as we declare the last inklings of summer done. Most of the leaves have fallen and ghosts gather at our doors, ready to zoom us for treats. We’ll need a little extra acceleration to power through dark mornings where sunrise no longer takes us by surprise at the deep edge of night. Still, those early colors tint our walls, fill our pillowcases, polish our bumpers, and lend a pleasing chew of sunbeam to the whirring day ahead. ////// Sarah Wyman’s newest volume of poems, Fried Goldfinch, is published by Codhill Press. She writes and teaches on verbal / visual intersections and lives in the Hudson Valley where climbing feet kick dust down to a river-sea. Her work has appeared in Aaduna, Mudfish, Ekphrasis, San Pedro River Review, Potomac Review, Petrichor Review, Chronogram, Shawangunk Review, A Slant of Light: Contemporary Women Poets of the Hudson Valley (Codhill), and other venues. Finishing Line Press published her chapbook Sighted Stones (2018).
Lightwood 