watercolor wash of
pink peach rose
in narrow slices
moves across dull brick,
once orange-red, color
nearly restored by the
pink peach rose shot
through with gold
watercolor wash of
dawn moving across
faces of eroding brick
awaiting demolition,
sagging, hunched,
gutted, squalid
touched by pink peach rose
spun-gold light of dawn,
unseeing of decay,
corruption, defeat.
Rebecca A. Logue


Bustin’ a move watchin’ MTV,
I slipped and hurt my messed-up knee.
I knew better ( ‘specially ’cause I’m old and fat).
So how’m I s’posed to tell my therapist that?
Rebecca A. Logue

Take Me Back

When Darkness closes in around me,
And I feel the separation like a sword
My lonely heart cries out to God,
And I find strength and comfort in his word.

I find peace in the midst of turmoil,
Joy in my times of fear,
Strength when I’m weak and tired,
I am still and God is here.

His life shines warm and simple,
Reflected in the pages that I turn.
My Lord has never left me.
All this time it’s me who has been gone.

Take me back, O Lord.
Take me back to where,
I feel your peace and comfort,
I feel your hand on me.

Take me back, O Lord.
Forgive me for the ugly things I’ve done.
Melt this heart of stone I’ve cultivated.
Hold me in your loving arms once more.

Nel Babitzke