By Marcellin Dallaire-Beaumont

language of flowers

does lilac have an accent

in the English garden

Marcellin Dallaire-Beaumont

two lines on the test

my girlfriend is going to have

a coronavirus

Marcellin Dallaire-Beaumont

By Vishal Prabhu

prayer beads

tugging at the nought

between creations

Vishal Prabhu

By Chen-ou Liu

all that

remains

down

to

the dark

alone

Chen-ou Liu

where were you born?

a neighbor's knife-sharp question ...

near the fence

I see green leaves and buds

on a maple tree stump

Chen-ou Liu

my body lies

next to my wife's for years

and yet

in a corner of my mind

this woman in red

Chen-ou Liu

By Pitt Büerken

spring

the war picks up

pace again

Pitt Büerken

he cheers

she wonders

it works

Pitt Büerken

By Douglas J. Lanzo

rolling mist

blue-gray mountains

awaken

Douglas J. Lanzo

steeped in endless fog

mountain folds

older than glaciers

Douglas J. Lanzo

By Deborah Karl-Brandt

watertolandtowater

again and again

the tide turns

Deborah Karl-Brandt

stepping around

one million earthworms

spring rain

Deborah Karl-Brandt

By Scott F. Parker

lost in the orchard

in no hurry to be found—

poems grow on trees

Scott F. Parker

By Kathryn Haydon

jazz quintet

grooving inside

the storm

Kathryn Haydon

faking a smile

plastic ferns

in the dentist’s office

Kathryn Haydon

By Rosa Maria Di Salvatore

exchanged glances

petals of daisies

scattered in the wind

Rosa Maria Di Salvatore

By Mona Bedi

lunar eclipse

the frayed edges

of her memory


Mona Bedi

airport clocks —

all the places

i could be


Mona Bedi

By Daniel Birnbaum

end of autumn

a goat eats

the bark of a pine tree

Daniel Birnbaum

By Nicola Schaum

cloud spotting my troubles shifting shape

Nicola Schaum

sensory extension

the deaf cat sees, I listen

summer rain

 Nicola Schaum

termite tango

drifting wings

glisten at dusk

Nicola Schaum

By Olivia Sitlub

The sound of the harp

in the heart of a forest

invigorates me

relieving my mind with grace

providing peace to my soul

Olivia Sitlub

By Wilda Morris

from the brush

a rabbit with a torn ear

evening chill

Wilda Morris

translucent windows

of an old house

cicada skin

Wilda Morris

By Tony Williams

cutting his own hair

the boy

still in my son

Tony Williams

desire path

the scent of something

that isn’t here


Tony Williams

quieter

the path

between the trees


Tony Williams

By John Hawkhead

late arrival

mum joins the family

grave

John Hawkhead

schoolyard teams

the last one picked

the first to die

John Hawkhead

By JL Huffman

my hip her heart

alternating illnesses

staying alive

JL Huffman

By Joseph P. Wechselberger

eggs fried

crisp around the edges …

learning to say no

Joseph P. Wechselberger

tasting the moon—

the way your eyes look

looking at me

Joseph P. Wechselberger

a phone number written

inside an old matchbook …

yard sale sport coat

Joseph P. Wechselberger

the smell of fresh-baked pie

a game of checkers

on the front porch

Joseph P. Wechselberger