BluestoneReview

Supreme Love By Dylan Mabe When will our embrace Seem ancient to young lovers? The day we burned our summer clothes together, Now a memory from the looking glass. We made a path to freedom, Through doors and doors and doors, To the dark side of the moon And a supreme love And even to this day I dance with you. Until lunch time, until we are tired Until we find out if God is just a simple song, Or just our love all along

Kindness By Connie Jordan Green More elusive than love, she lingers in the shadows, hesitant to make herself known, her pale skin and silvery hair a soft glow in the dark. She is quieter than her ebullient sister Joy, though sometimes the two walk hand-in-hand. When the weather turns cold, she puts a pot of soup on the stove, piles quilts at the foot of the bed. She watches out for stray cats and dogs, the child sitting on the curb with a skinned knee. If she can find someone to accompany her, she visits hospitals, nursing homes, stands with mourners at graveside. She is not particular about home— palace or hovel, she is happy to move in with anyone who seeks her company.

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