In an ongoing series, the editors, former contributors, and readers of Eclectica have been invited to write a poem containing four pre-chosen words. The words for this issue are iron, paper, sundial, and doctor.
If you would like to participate in the next special poetry assignment, the new words are antique, perpetual, splinter, and wren.
(These are excerpts—click on the title to view the whole poem)
From city to outback and back
again, rescuing, healing,
Two Word Poems
No doctor could heal
those wounds, but his way was to
honor all the lost.
I feel the weight of gathering shadows
as evening draws itself closer, its gray
shawl clutched by a frail hand.
The Placebo Effect
On the wall behind him I admire the colorful
evisceration: A poster from Gray's Anatomy,
a grin that's not a grin.
My future became a country under siege.
They demanded lifelong payments.
Iron-tongue whispers pile into coded messages
that tread soft footed yet strong in gait
across dented pillows.
Barbara De Franceschi
Have Mercy on Such as We
His starched coat reminds her of Mother,
standing over white shirts on the ironing board