By Joan E. Cashin

The sun fades at last

so a paragraph of light

can tell us the tale.

Joan E. Cashin

By Kelly Sargent

twister tangled in your blues

Kelly Sargent

gypsy moth wanderings before my wings

Kelly Sargent

By Monica Kakkar

sitārist solos . . .

in the sweep of a sārī

solstice strawberry

Monica Kakkar

By K. Ramesh

small town...

throughout the rain

the football match

K. Ramesh

By Fatma Zohra Habis

behind the window

alone with autumn

rain

Fatma Zohra Habis

By Jerome Berglund

stripping off

soaked garments

socks still dry


Jerome Berglund

kingdom builders

roofing

and gutters

Jerome Berglund

By Eugeniusz Zacharski

in a trench

a quarrel between soldiers

over a property line

Eugeniusz Zacharski

By Ann Sullivan

mountain drive . . .

the spider spins

a silk road

Ann Sullivan

By Anju Kishore

peace talks

the sky gathers

in shades of grey

Anju Kishore

storm alert —

the sky a screech

of parrots

Anju Kishore

thunderstorm —

the night

keeps breaking

Anju Kishore

By Mark Forrester

reading nursery rhymes—

I pause

where my mother paused


Mark Forrester

By John Zheng

tornado then blue sky then family albums in the rubbles

John Zheng

 

golden grass in flying manes chasing our car

John Zheng

By Barrie Levine

summer week

all the bedrooms filled

in grandma’s house

Barrie Levine

 

city heat . . .

all-day panting

in the dog park

Barrie Levine

By Susan Burch

nudist my mascara streaking

Susan Burch

By Sharon Ferrante

midnight dip

how warm

the fondue

Sharon Ferrante

I get too close

then he leaves me

owl on the lamppost

Sharon Ferrante

shhhh…

says the wind

to the reeds

Sharon Ferrante

By Brad Bennett

false spring

a trail newly closed

for restoration

Brad Bennett

By Biswajit Mishra

summing up

evolution

a butterfly

Biswajit Mishra

peace talk

warring factions

share a lunch

Biswajit Mishra

things we left

unsaid

day moon

Biswajit Mishra

By Susan Pope

Her invisible childhood friend

Where is she now?

Still by her side

Susan Pope

By Daniela Misso

autumn rain –

grandma's sewing machine

silent in the corner

Daniela Misso

short night –

a station master's whistle

in the distance

Daniela Misso

I go back

to see the rubble

silence of stars

Daniela Misso

 

 

sea foam . . .

fleeting memories

take shape

Daniela Misso