left too early
the unheard whisper
of snow
—David Ngo
late snow
my steps
inside my father’s
—Bill Fay
unburdened
a canary sleeps
in Buddha’s hands
—Bill Fay
creasing the corner
of a love poem
crescent moon
—Alvin B. Cruz
last petal
the pause before
she loves me not
—Alvin B. Cruz
mostly dark
the horses call us
first
breaking light
a short cut
to the woodpile
harvest hands . . .
a farm table
of biscuits and gravy
morning frost
on grandpa’s old tractor
cough, cough, cough
an owl floats
just over the barn
come daylight
—Randy Brooks
(Last update, May 16, 2026) Email for submissions: journalcoldmoon(at)gmail(dot)com Editors: Timothy Daly, Oana Cercel. ~~~~ You may submi...