In an ongoing series, the editors, former contributors, and readers of Eclectica have been invited to write a poem containing four pre-chosen words. The words for this issue are gull, attic, trample, and metallic.

If you would like to participate in the next special poetry assignment, the new words are cowl, reveal, granite, and unfinished.

---

(These are excerpts—click on the title to view the whole poem)

Nothing Much
 
The waiting woman
turns on the radio, puts more blood
on to boil
 
Jude Goodwin

 

Outerbanks
 
There are mornings when your loss
is a distant roar, a metallic shine
that glimmers at horizon's edge
 
Brent Fisk

 

Two Word Poems
 
Disintegration is my peace,
my blessed break, release.
 
Ray Templeton

 

Bear in Mind
 
One day you're contemplating
shades of gray and the next,
it's ashes to ashes.
 
Antonia Clark

 

Backcloth
 
I am half-ready to believe in a tidal tomorrow.
 
Barbara De Franceschi

 

Trails
 
Year by year,
the same small birds seem to return,
but what I am seeing are generations.
 
Jennifer Finstrom