Scott Wiggerman

 trying to read the crane's calls 

—Scott Wiggerman

Scott Wiggerman

snow-tipped mountains

you are never coming

home

—Scott Wiggerman

you begin

to think it spotless

empty sky

—Scott Wiggerman

By Scott Wiggerman, j rap and Janet Ruth

Urban Harvest

a potpourri

of fallen leaves

each step

(sw)

strawflowers and dahlias

in the wedding bouquet

(j rap)

mulching the garden

with leftover hay 

sharp scent of rot

(jr)

soused cranberries

too much pumpkin spice

(sw)

kitchen step stool 

the fragrance of basil

dangling from twine

(j rap)

moving the parsley pot inside

before first freeze 

(jr)

Scott Wiggerman (sw), j rap and Janet Ruth (jr)

Scott Wiggerman

sprain

walking the walk

from my sofa

Scott Wiggerman

Nominations for the 2025 Pushcart Prize (Poetry)

 

 

Mar 26:

periodic table

the stars that flow

through us

Eugeniusz Zacharski

Apr 5:

closed clinic

another choice

terminated

Scott Wiggerman

Apr 9:

gentle dawn ...

the haiku remains

unfinished

Samo Kreutz

Apr 22:

losing the path

deep in the forest

I find myself

deep in the forest

losing myself

I find the path

losing the path

I find myself

deep in the forest

Belinda Behne

Oct 6:

long weekend

the news comes

on a friday

Jerome Berglund

Oct 12:

fake profile —

why would anyone

want to be me

Susan Burch

 

Big congratulations to our six Pushcart nominees!

Nominations for the Touchstone Awards are underway, so please remain patient. Uploading the data for 30 poems is taking considerable time and effort. It's a lengthy process, but the Touchstone announcement will be posted at the journal once everything is finished.

Scott Wiggerman

ten sentences

as the narrative

rambles on . . .

all I wanted was

a simple yes or no

Scott Wiggerman

the failure

of espresso love

I no longer

remember

his name

Scott Wiggerman

sunflower

steeped too long

in loneliness

Scott Wiggerman

windchill

the bitter icicles

of absence

Scott Wiggerman

Scott Wiggerman

a bee disappears

in a purple wine cup

I follow his cue

Scott Wiggerman

deep purple dirge of elections

Scott Wiggerman

weight limits

the baggage we learn

to live without

Scott Wiggerman

disbelief

in resurrection

the many times

dead trees

come back to life

Scott Wiggerman

scavenging

old wood

for tree forts

before I knew

people live in less


Scott Wiggerman

Scott Wiggerman

room to grow

the yukuta

envelops us both

Scott Wiggerman

low water crossing the missteps

Scott Wiggerman

closed clinic

another choice

terminated

Scott Wiggerman

Scott Wiggerman

arguing

about their affairs

child-proof language

Scott Wiggerman

Scott Wiggerman

I no longer sing

in perfect harmony

faraway notes

Scott Wiggerman

Scott Wiggerman

blue spruce not blue but spruce

Scott Wiggerman