By Neena Singh

summer day

a surfer rides

the rising sun


Neena Singh

my arms

cradle the dog

into the grave

Neena Singh

By Tony Williams

city pigeons

always something

to peck at


Tony Williams

 

thunder

answering thunder

with thunder

Tony Williams

By Françoise Maurice

street light

the distant echo

of a birthday party

Françoise Maurice

 

every so often

through the clouds

the Moon

Françoise Maurice

By Marilyn Ashbaugh

jam session

a cupboard lined

with mason jars

Marilyn Ashbaugh

the daisies

say it best

morning sun

Marilyn Ashbaugh

By M. R. Pelletier

Space station—

   who hears the mouse’s

   frightened squeak?

M. R. Pelletier

Kitchen window—

   a stray dog

   in the front yard

M. R. Pelletier

By Nisha Raviprasad

sunflowers

my shadow and I

move around

Nisha Raviprasad

broken vase

I bottle my tears

once again

Nisha Raviprasad

By Jovana Dragojlovic

after all this time...

chocolate donut

touches my lips

Jovana Dragojlovic

somewhere else...

sounds like a place without

any problem

Jovana Dragojlovic

By Oana Maria Cercel

tangled

in the moonlit clouds

my sobriety

Oana Maria Cercel

missing you

another morning

lasts a year

Oana Maria Cercel

hazy hills

Oana Maria Cercel

By Timothy Daly and Oana Maria Cercel

 

alone

in the crowd

nameless tree

words Timothy Daly

image Oana Maria Cercel

By Keith Evetts

in the night

croaks from the old pond

all alike

Keith Evetts

 

 

where they think

great Caesar crossed the Thames

...just the moon

Keith Evetts

By Nancy Brady

summer solstice

pinwheels spin

in the garden

Nancy Brady

h(earth)ome

Nancy Brady

By Chen-ou Liu

the door slammed shut ...

my world without her shrinks

to a tv screen

Chen-ou Liu

the door

open to blue skies

in the stillness

a caged eagle and I

become one

Chen-ou Liu

By Suraj Nanu

delayed monsoon

the heft of rice seeds

in the burlap sacks

Suraj Nanu

long distance call . . .

a winter butterfly

darts from the bucket

Suraj Nanu

By Alvin B. Cruz

folding

paper dolls

mother tells me

what it means

to be a man

Alvin B. Cruz

his twin sons

coming out

double rainbow

Alvin B. Cruz

enough said soundless wind chimes

Alvin B. Cruz

By Robert Witmer

a stone bench

warm with sun

the cat my mother loved

Robert Witmer

self help

the clerk at the bookstore

points to the bottom shelf

Robert Witmer

lost in thought

a dandelion seed

in the wind

Robert Witmer

war graves

the silence

of forgetful flags

Robert Witmer

By Jennifer Gurney

softly it falls

so gentle it’s a whisper–

first spring rain

Jennifer Gurney

planting 15

white Columbine

one for each life lost

Jennifer Gurney

the candle’s scent

gently follows me upstairs

tucking me into bed

Jennifer Gurney

washed clean

by the river

my heart

Jennifer Gurney

By Helen Ogden

solstice moon

I give the clouds

a talking to

Helen Ogden

Juneteenth

black workers on overtime

at the country club

Helen Ogden

the time it takes

the time it doesn't

first rose

Helen Ogden

By Sharon Ferrante

witch’s ritual

she gives a bow

to morning mist

Sharon Ferrante

burning sage

a crow cleans his wings

in the rain

Sharon Ferrante

old brooms

we talk about

our travels

Sharon Ferrante