Love Larceny by Mark Aikins
I only found Camille’s headstone,
having tracked the little thief to Athens
--not for my wallet...for my heart.
Another lover had found her first.
Day of Vengeance by Mark Aikins
Hovering spectres crowded Cutter’s Glen,
gleeful over the blood-soaked ground.
Lightning, not tomahawks, had ended
the hundredth anniversary picnic of
the Indian War Victory Society.
Shore Leave Interruptus by Mark Aikins
Communicator now slick as his palm,
“Enterprise!” he shouted, “report!!”
“Klingons disabled,” Chekov panted.
“Thirty casualties...torpedoes depleted...shields open.”
“Beam me aboard,” Kirk whispered.
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