Cold Moon Journal

Cold Moon Journal
Photo c. Alf B. Meier

Tuesday, October 31, 2023

By JL Huffman

gourd’s garish grin

macabre ceiling display

guest-room night light

JL Huffman

By petro c. k.

blood moon

swirling in the glass

a nice chianti

petro c. k.


*


echoing inside . . .

first clump of dirt

hitting the coffin

petro c. k.

By Eavonka Ettinger

oleanders sway

in the cold winds

a deadly tea

Eavonka Ettinger

Monday, October 30, 2023

By JL Huffman

new moon fog

ghost deer dart

JL Huffman


*

 

murder of crow’s feet

unlaughable lines

JL Huffman

By petro c. k.

thin fabric

between worlds

bedsheet ghost

petro c. k.

By Eavonka Ettinger

pumpkin pulp

wriggles through fingers—

creating a new face

Eavonka Ettinger


*

 

crows gather

to greet the dead

a thin veil

Eavonka Ettinger

By Jerome Berglund

house settling

or something more

forgotten frost

Jerome Berglund

By Lafcadio

chronic pain

I hear the doctor

order leeches

Lafcadio


*

 

pierced skin—

a wound too deep

for blood to flow

Lafcadio

Sunday, October 29, 2023

By Roberta Beach Jacobson

filling

the cavity of my sweet tooth

licorice

Roberta Beach Jacobson

Saturday, October 28, 2023

By Nicola Schaum

a scattered mind

grandad's head in the freezer

searching for keys


Nicola Schaum

Friday, October 27, 2023

By Sébastien Revon

autumn

a dead butterfly

on the conscience

Sébastien Revon

By Stephen Jarrell Williams

beneath the night

wrapped in soft blankets

finger touching stars

Stephen Jarrell Williams

By Stephanie Zepherelli

river rapids

autumn’s brief romance

for chinook salmon

Stephanie Zepherelli


*

 

gravestone

wanting to understand

her last words

Stephanie Zepherelli

By Shasta Hatter

full moon

and one star

midnight city sky

Shasta Hatter

Thursday, October 26, 2023

By Richard G Birtles

the slightest curve

starbound

a sinking lighthouse

Richard G Birtles

Tuesday, October 24, 2023

By Helen Ogden

bedtime ritual

checking to see the stars

are still in place

Helen Ogden

By Chris Collins

the road not taken

has always been there waiting

to hear your footsteps


Chris Collins

By Susan Lee Roberts

morning rays—

a wink of pink

lavenders the sky

Susan Lee Roberts