Front Porch Review
A literary magazine for the young at heart and mind

Repetitious undulations that can ceaselessly roll stop.
Gone is the majesty of nature’s attempt to mold and shape its shore.
Over its grey dull surface soft winds blow snowy rivulets,
Causing wisps of snow to become airborne wavelets,
Changing nothing, except themselves.
The lake stretches forth into seeming oblivion,
Meeting the equally dull faint violet grey sky.
Their surfaces meet, neither yields.
No sun greets anyone. It is veiled by winter’s hold.
A calm resignation invites us to imagine the future spring.
Lake moods
Combed and pressed
            Neatly arrested
            Not like the lake.
No beginning
   Horizon blends
       Sky and water as one.
Weak sun, no sailboats
   The lake hibernates
       I ruminate.

By Arthur Altman

Art Altman, retired dermatologist, wants to leave something of himself so that when he dies there will be of something of value. He believes we humans are ambivalent and need encouragement to bring out the best in us. Thus his photos, writings and sculpture point to something worthwhile in Nature and in humanity. Along the way Art overcame failed tests and engagement and emotional and physical pain. His audience is intelligent, those who want to experience more in life. He has been inspired by grandparents, parents, teachers, rabbis and friends. His e-mail address: Art Altman