that story…
is already written
in the sand
the sky has heard
the
water singing it
Rita R. Melissano
in the murmur
of a calm river
the
ripples of your voice
Rita R. Melissano
a
puzzle piece remembering where to go
Rita R. Melissano
dark circles
the void inside
many
moons
Rita R. Melissano
black holes...
pulled into forever
on
a bed of dead stars
Rita R. Melissano
dad’s chair
the worn cushion
beneath
the cat
Robert Witmer
white nights
the ghost by the fire
asleep
Robert Witmer
babushka
memories wrapped in cabbage
baba's
twinkling eyes
Robert Witmer
climbing
to reach her soul
ivy
Richard Bailly
riding
a tricycle—
again
Richard Bailly
candied bacon
the ice cream flavours
she
loved
Ravi Kiran
on a leaf
still holding on
first
snow
Ravi Kiran
dry riverbed
it’s time to become
strangers
again
Ravi Kiran
a new sprig
on the horizon
baby’s
breath
Kelly Sargent
questioning
why no more shooting stars
Kelly Sargent
double
consonants recalling the little things
Kelly Sargent
pistachio shells
under the couch cushions
self-help
workbook
Kelly Sargent
an
S shape in the window of her content
Pippa Phillips
cold morning
the curl of a cat’s tail
around
my wrist
Pippa Phillips
unable
to be myself
autumn
leaf
Pippa Phillips
snail shell
the curl of a day
into
itself
Pippa Phillips
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
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