Jan/Feb 2012

e c l e c t i c a
s p o t l i g h t   a u t h o r


Jude Goodwin

(These are excerpts—click on the title to view the whole piece!)


I'm watching things fall—
a laugh from the other room,
a letter, released from its pile

Her Music

the room is filled
with god rays,
or there's a dark rose bud
blooming in a tall glass vase

The Wind the Wind

Storm thugs are vandalizing
the neighbourhood, I can hear them
throwing things

The snow has stopped

poor poet watching
as beauty slumps away