by John Grey
you pace the many rooms
of the old manor.
you blow out the bedside candle,
dark clouds encumber the high window
and, as you lie back on your pillow,
pull the blanket up to the crest of your chin,
it’s time for another kind of pacing.
Your mind is the floor this time.
Your memory provides the footsteps.
As does your guilt.
And the ghosts.
Back and forth,
back and forth,
by the time you fall asleep,
your evil history
has worn a hole in your head.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident,
recently published in Stand, Santa Fe Literary Review, and Lost
Pilots. Latest books, Between Two Fires, Covert, and Memory
Outside the Head, are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in the Seventh
Quarry, La Presa, and California Quarterly.
Cindy Rosmus originally hails
from the Ironbound section of
Newark, NJ, once voted the “unfriendliest city on the planet.” She talks like Anybodys
from West Side Story and everybody from Saturday Night Fever.
stories have been published in the coolest places, such as Shotgun
Honey; Megazine; Dark Dossier; The Rye
Whiskey Review, Under the Bleachers, and Rock and a Hard
Place. She is the editor/art director of Yellow Mama and
the art director of Black Petals. She’s published seven collections
of short stories. Cindy is a Gemini, a Christian, and an animal
rights advocate. She has recently branched out into photo illustration.