Writers of the Month

Bill Newby and Phil Lindsey

Bill Newby

Bill Newby
Newby uses poetry and prose to reflect upon daily experience. His work has appeared in Whiskey Island, Bluffton Breeze, Ohio Teachers Write, Palm Beach Poetry Festival’s Fish Tales Contest, Blue Mountain Review, Panoplyzine, Sixfold, and four IWN anthologies. He was a 2018 Pushcart Poetry Prize Nominee. His two poetry collections (Sea Chests or a Carry-On and Passing Through) are available from Amazon, and his third collection, Casting, is expected on Amazon in mid-November.

Day and Night

by Bill Newby


The sun rises; the sun soon sets.

We take a walk, rake our leaves.

The year arrives, then it exits.

Babies are born; others we grieve.


Our children grow, and then they leave.

We hold our photos and hear their voice.

We enjoy each summer and seek reprieve

from winter storms, and next rejoice


when spring brings rain and the world turns moist,

plants climb higher, bud and blossom,

and birds returned in the morning voice

songs that make our gardens awesome.


We ride the seasonal merry-go-round

and watch our shadows turn short, then long.


Everything changes from day to day,

yet stays the same from year to year.

This mystery kneels some who pray

and brings all others annual cheer.


What goes to rest awakes at dawn.

What seems lost isn’t always gone.


We get one ticket, take our trip,

then leave a cup that others sip.


In the darkest days, we celebrate the light.

And now we welcome this good night. 

You can find this piece and many others in Ripples


Phil Lindsey


Phil Lindsey was born and raised in Illinois, graduating from Illinois State University in 1976 with an accounting degree. He moved to Bluffton, SC in 2016 and enjoys golf and pickle ball. His poems have been published in two IWN anthologies and one issue of Local Life magazine.



by Phil Lindsey


The shore, compelling from a distance,

looks lush and green and warm.

From closer-up it’s less inviting.

Remnant driftwood from a storm

covers beaches, sea grass, shells,

and secrets kept she never tells

of all the travelers that have tried

to harbor there and all that died.

More ships and sailors come each day,

though some give up and sail away.

Others, persistent, wreck their ships,

drifting into coral that rips

gashes in each hull and heart.

Remains lie broken far apart.

The sun-swept skies and gentle breezes

push and pull the wispy clouds.

But dark, black storm clouds gather quickly.

Rapidly approaching shrouds

that soon will join with lightning, thunder,

and mortal winds which blow asunder

bow from stern and sail from mast.

How long can weary sailors last?

The brave among them choose to fight.

The strong endure till morning light.

Then early hues of pink and teal

dark night’s destruction will reveal

carnage strewn about the beach–

like dreams of many, out of reach.



You can find this poem and many others in Ripples

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