September 27, 2002 4:15 p.m. Baton Rouge, LA        Randy Lafitte crouched his gangly six-foot frame on his heels and wiped away a stray bead of sweat. He lowered the bill of his cap to cut out the afternoon glare and stared across the manicured landscape at the rim of a sunken cup, twelve feet away. After examining the lay of the land, he rose and turned towards the three men standing in a huddle behind him on the green, conversing in hushed voices.    ...

Roses in the garden wilderness Bloom during all four seasons As I wander through this garden viewing nature’s beauty I am enticed even further into the colorful depths Each flower I pass beckons to me Reaching out to touch me with soft rouge fingers Calling to me with pheremonal aromas That only roses possess I find that resistance is my only chance for survival From an eternity of floral bliss Among a sea of thorns For beneath the surface of all beauty lies the potential for pain These thoug...

stardust sprinkles us as we lay beneath his glow in farmer smith’s meadow crickets sing their songs of slumber slow sinking— in the absence of light swallowed by her lovely eyes captured— like those autumn fireflies she never let me catch lost and found in this small town the only negro in the batch as i smile she frowns bringing my good mood down i long to touch her hair of deepest ebony to feel those kinking strands move through my hands instead i choose to fan mosquitoes from her furrowed ...