By Mark Fleisher
Passion warmed winter’s chill when lovers skittered down the sand cliff, landing on the uncrowded beach and finding shelter of randomly sculptured driftwood where they kissed and allowed their jacketed bodies to come together before the whoops and hollers of friends scared the bejesus out of them They joined the uproarious laughter for outwardly they were good sports while internally they bristled at the interruption of their love making The lovers did not know then – could not know then – this day represented the zenith of their togetherness for she tired of him when winter bled into spring and she found another as spring marched toward the cusp of summer, betraying a boy now wrapped only in bitterness and anger
A native of Brooklyn, New York, now living in Albuquerque, New Mexico, Mark Fleisher has published three books of poetry – with some prose and photographs thrown in – Moments of Time; Intersections: Poems from the Crossroads; and Reflections: Soundings from the Deep, in addition to collaborating on a chapbook titled Obituaries of the Living. His work has appeared in numerous online and print anthologies in the United States, the United Kingdom, Canada, Kenya, Nigeria, South Africa, and India. After receiving a journalism degree from Ohio University, Fleisher enlisted in the U.S. Air Force and served a year in Vietnam as a combat news reporter. He was awarded a Bronze Star among other decorations. Before turning to poetry, Fleisher held reporting and editing positions with newspapers in New York and Washington, D.C.