David D. Horowitz founded and manages Rose Alley Press. His newest collection, Stars Beyond the Battlesmoke, was released in November of 2008, and his previous collections include Wildfire, Candleflame; Resin from the Rain; and Streetlamp, Treetop, Star. His poems have appeared in a number of literary journals, and he gives frequent readings in and around Seattle, where he lives. In 2005, Horowitz won the PoetsWest Achievement Award. In 2007, he edited, as well as published, the Rose Alley Press anthology: Limbs of the Pine, Peaks of the Range.
These headlines sear and spear and scald.
They spurt such bloody violence
His seasoned heart still feels appalled
To worried saddened silence.
He’s heard of panaceas, saviors,
The Prophet’s signs. They make him wince.
Not snide, yet not naive, he favors
A balance tuned from long experience.
Dusk’s saffron-ruby smoke above the mountain range
Greys weekend into distance.
Pines print consistency on silhouetted change
And blacken in persistence
Through night. Dawn blazes, then extinguishes, the lamps,
Lake’s silver silence beaming shaky scarlet lance
And freshly lit existence.
Soon deadlines govern dreams, and sky turns plainly blue.
Most hurry to their job, ignore the window view.
I’m an ounce
Of flit and bounce,
Of hop and flinch.
I chirp and chatter,
Perch and scatter,
The world can kill
And think it doesn’t matter.
Pine, spruce project on twilight’s ruby screen
As lamps define arterials and streets,
And freeways flow commuters home. Rose streaks
Stretch opal stratosphere to starry skein,
And data, deadlines, details fade to night.
Day’s bribe, threat, and deceit still live–no, thrive.
Integrity must battle to survive,
In shadowed lunar scene must sharpen sight.