FOUR FEATHERS PRESS ONLINE EDITION: GRASS LEAVES Send up to three poems on the subject of or at least mentioning the words grass and/or leaves, totaling up to 150 lines in length, in the body of an email message or attached in a Word file to donkingfishercampbell@gmail.com by 11:59 PM PST on January 17th. No PDF's please. Color artwork is also desired. Please send in JPG form. No late submissions accepted. Poets and artists published in Four Feathers Press Online Edition: Grass Leaves will be published online and invited to read at the Saturday Afternoon Poetry Zoom meeting on Saturday, January 25th between 3 and 5 pm PST

Wednesday, January 15, 2025

Tim Tipton

New Start


it’s late September

the leaves on the sycamore tree

have touched earth

the wind clears the last days of

summer like a sky of clouds

there’s not much left now but

the faint echo of carefree children

making most of their long hours

these changes depress most

but encourage me

rustle of feet on brittle grass,

the early evenings, and

the cold air blowing on my face

September brings in a fresh start

a feeling of rebirth

It's a great time to change your life.




After a long winter 


Spring’s sweet light

fills my chest.

I pick up a garden hose 

Scatter a stream of water on the

Begonias, calla lilies,

The birds of paradise,

And the hollyhocks

As well as the trunk of the old elm

the ivy bed,

And the poinsettia plant;

After that the steps of the back porch,

And the windows too

Everything in sight was bathed in a pure

Cold light

I gaze at the blue sky and can hear

The evening doves wheel over the trees

I drew the hose up to make a rainbow

I drift the garden house back and forth

The rainbow drifted

Now everything was pleasantly damp and fresh.




Bedroom Window at Dark


stay awake nights

see the moonlight spread across the grass lawn

    as the nocturnal sky take shape

feel the fresh air pour in

    observe the wind waves steadily off the ocean 

    and the leaves on the wet barked trees shake

make a fire where black and white twigs of wood 

    crackle inside

hear the refrigerator gently drone

be awake to see the sunset

     watch the colors of the land appear

     From nowhere: pale orange, chocolate

     Topsoil and pale blue like a tear 

have your bed ready for sleep

    for a vast library of dreams 

    awaiting to stir inside you.


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