before
the storm altogether the crows
Anthony Lusardi
walk in the park
i lose my way
on
purpose
Kathabela Wilson
aging beauty
the calligraphy
of
her face
Kathabela Wilson
in the inner lining
of her kimono
a
hint of hopefulness
Kathabela Wilson
winter storm
snowing
parmesan
over the risotto
Paula
Sears
a
lone traveler
along the snowy path
moonlight
Paula
Sears
failing
to find my identity wildflowers
Mona
Bedi
telling
it as the truth liar moon
Mona
Bedi
cricket
moon
somewhere the call
of a loon
Mona
Bedi
mountain trek
we slowly discover
hidden stars
Mona Bedi
chattering sparrows
in the burning bush
—town
gossips
Nancy Brady
dirty slush...
all the cars on the road
the
same color
Nancy Brady
bittersweet
branches the winter night
Debbie Olson
storm clouds
a blue heron pilots
the
canal
Debbie Olson
hours
out looking for seaglass I’ve lost my edge
Susan Yavaniski
a little black dress
on consignment
menopause
Susan Yavaniski
introductions
a box of donuts
a
box of holes
Susan Yavaniski
snow in drifts
so much left
undone
Susan Yavaniski
assisted dying
shadows in the slipstream
of
a nightjar
John Hawkhead
identity thieves
stamped on her headstone
blooms
of lichen
John Hawkhead
what
i really meant to say false spring
Alvin B. Cruz
death poem
pouring my last
cup
of tea
Alvin B. Cruz
heart
monitor...
beats of rage
killing time
Ellen Kom
frail
bones hanging on the dawn
Ellen Kom
in
want of washing my sins hard rain
Vandana Parashar
when I thought
the earth revolves around me…
mother’s
lap
Vandana Parashar
once I loved
whistling in the woods
winter
wind
Keith Evetts
withered grasses
so many strands
of
idle thought
Keith Evetts
divorce lawyers
we finally reach
an
unsettlement
Keith Evetts
winter
garden
a bumper crop
of weeds
Jenn Ryan-Jauregui
dawn
chorus the kittens not yet weaned
Jenn Ryan-Jauregui
creeping
onto the footpath
first light
I loosen the knot
in
my scarf
Jenn Ryan-Jauregui
spring
cleaning cobwebs in my mind
Stephanie Zepherelli
flying
on trade winds mango leaves
Stephanie
Zepherelli
A
lunar calendar—
counting days
I watch the moon.
Michael
Minassian
The monk asks a question,
I have no answer—
very
good, he says.
Michael Minassian
Cloudy morning
inside and out
another
leaf falls.
Michael Minassian
cold dawn
the drooping eyelids
of
school bus kids
Ravi Kiran
the porch
all for themselves
the
bulb and a moth
Ravi Kiran