pendulum swing
I let
the memory
heal
Manoj Sharma
office
window
the ascending aroma
from the alley bakery
Manoj
Sharma
long
night
the lonely baying
of a stray dog
Manoj Sharma
March
wind
a drifting leaf settles
on my shoulder
Manoj
Sharma
ancestral
well
remembering
my foremothers
Manoj Sharma
stale
bread we can’t break the silence
Timothy Daly
blackberry
bush this bitter departure
Timothy Daly
the
side they don’t see of me half moon
Timothy Daly
no water lilies
but rock reflections
in the winter pond
I look for beauty
in
the cold and gray
Jackie Chou
a
stone Buddha
on the garden path
reminds me
it was
many years ago
I last lit incense
Jackie Chou
two blue-tailed birds
hopping in and out
of a fallen tree
all the things I cannot name
on
my midday walk
Jackie Chou
the sky tonight
bereft of the moon
and stars...
I write a love poem
about
airplanes
Jackie Chou
Did I waste myself on excess,
Wanting too much
Until
it became too little?
Anthony Ward
To see the moon and hear the loon
Is
to feel what night is made of
Anthony Ward
Leaves
dance to the rhythm of the rain
Anthony Ward
above or below
i will always be here when
wildflowers
return
Noga Shemer
how many, he asks
infinite, is her answer
azalea
petals
Noga Shemer
leave the door open
so I may hear you trying
not
to disturb me
Noga Shemer
i worry for you
but you've been through this before
daffodils
in snow
Noga Shemer
the world careens
from crisis to crisis . . .
pumpkin
toadlets
image
and words Debbie Strange
vegan picnic
three scoops of daisies
in
my cone
image and words Debbie Strange
romanian
village —
the
sun rises from a basket
of
field flowers
Steliana Cristina Voicu
Milk spilt
Nothing is
meant to remain
Contained forever
Georg Cook
Sands
shift
The eviction notice
Delivered
Georg Cook
then and now
the declining number
of
beetles
Wanda Amos
women in black
the harvest of their wombs
cold
in the earth
Wanda Amos
Indian market
all the vehicles parked
in
no parking zone
Vandana Parashar
stirring a storm
in the puddle
strong
wind
Vandana Parashar
snow –
dozens of Inuit words
none
easy to shovel
Bonnie J Scherer
moths
nibbling on wool fingerless gloves
Bonnie J Scherer
peel
after peel the onion still
Bonnie J Scherer
morning wind . . .
the
birdsong too
rooted to sky
Goran Gatalica
sunny
spot —
cultivating a garden
in
our yard
Goran Gatalica