Flash Literature, Poetry, Art and Photography!

Poems By Sheri Harper





Down by sea-soaked pillars hewn from grown,

black-tarred against salt and shadowed,

we seek retreat despite sun-touched

waters rocking into fro. Our eyes

tack through crossed direction

find heron, who finds grace walking

slinking neck to body

slaking thirst with mites unearthed and unowned.

Like friend heron

we dress mauve silken feathers a-throat,

cap head with band like sky

weighted in future, afloat with wind.

Our night perch then, a private joke--

lightpost, a man-made tree.

Vulture-hooded, cloaked with night’s

trickster grays, our beak standing straight

under watchful eyes seldom seen



Kachina Lost


Once our ancestors dressed

in nature’s aspects of power,

painted skin with dyed-clay,

wore feathers and leathers of friends,

became a deity’s child.

People invoked their guise --

rains, thunder, winds and crops,

laughter, and mother’s enclosing arms,

taught young morality

and lessons learned over time.

Runners gave us discipline,

social dancers opened doors,

drums provided rhythmic tones,

chants underpinned story,

circle brought us closer home.

We felt the stub of pounded feet,

weight of costume. Our focused posture,

clack of beads, rub of hide, "hey-yeh" call,

and trickle of sweat let us connect

to spirits behind the mask.

Our faces lose nimbleness

as do our imaginations

as old ceremonies are set aside.

Still, the artisan’s knife slices our shape

out of cottonwood roots.


Sargent : Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose

Two blond sisters

dash round stargazers,

dust their noses

in Enchantment

hide behind pink roses

all in a hedge --

little firefly girls.

Their job to jounce

curled mops.

Their job to flounce

lace, ribboned, and

twirly Carmen skirts.

Midsummer’s eve

during Mother’s party.

Among the old fashioned

pinks -- Mrs. Sinkins,

Charlotte and Olivia,

they hold Chinese lanterns

while around them

fairy lights gleam

and flit among

night’s scented wonder--

carnation, lily, lily, rose.




The girl with wide-open arms

always smiles,

always runs,

if you but open yours.

The girl with wide shining eyes,

always poses,

skews the photo,

is hard to catch unaware.

The girl who cries big tears,

sniffs and hiccups,

and gets far too warm,

is never convinced she did wrong.

Such a girl wins your heart.

For all her sins,

her eyes, poses and open arms,

she catches you unaware.

Sheri Harper shares...

SHERI HARPER is a speculative fiction writer whose poems, articles, and short stories appear in a number of small markets  including Springhill Review,,  and Yellow Mama.   She finds inspiration in art, nature,   the endless possibilities of the future, and in the intellectual capacities of humans in finding new and clever ways of viewing their world.


The various motivations for these poems is her secret for the time being.  Visit  Sheri at