By Mark Forrester

just a flicker

and the swallow

is gone

Mark Forrester

By Muskaan Ahuja

aunt’s call —

the distant whistles

of her pressure cooker

Muskaan Ahuja

By Meagan Bussert

sitting in church

thinking about

thinking about distractions

Meagan Bussert

By Mike Gallagher

longing for

more tangible company

the romance reader

Mike Gallagher

By M. R. Pelletier

Beach read,

   sand trapped in its pages—

   the secrets she keeps

M. R. Pelletier

By Maid Corbic

aria of life hidden

into a ball of happiness

hope is born

Maid Corbic

By Aaron Bowker

endless rain –

her tears joining puddles

in the street

Aaron Bowker

*

imprint in dust

made by what you took

when you left

Aaron Bowker

By Roman Lyakhovetsky

half-empty cinema –

a moth flutters in and out

of the projector beam

Roman Lyakhovetsky

By Alvin B. Cruz

autumn leaves changing my relationship status yet again
Alvin B. Cruz

 

*

long summer
written in the sand
a name not mine
Alvin B. Cruz

By Mirela Brailean

greenhouse

in prolonged monologue

with the wilted ones

Mirela Brailean

By Bonnie J Scherer

summer fling

a wild geranium

reseeds itself

Bonnie J Scherer

By Kamarun Nahar

you and i

still could be a myth

adam and eve

Kamarun Nahar

By Randy Brooks

walking down the stairs

between classes

phone zombies

Randy Brooks

By Bryan Rickert

not a care in the world wildflowers

Bryan Rickert

By Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

honeysuckle

finally a quiet

place to grieve

Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

By Deborah Karl-Brandt

distant thunder

what poetry means

in this world

Deborah Karl-Brandt

By Ellen Kom

sensitivity training

the boss winks at me

stormy morning 

Ellen Kom

By Brad Bennett

you do not

have to be good

autumn sky

Brad Bennett

 

*

 

ice bubbles

the pond talks

in its sleep
 

Brad Bennett