By Maria Teresa Sisti

spring flowers -

so much fog around me


Maria Teresa Sisti

Roberta Beach Jacobson

modest moon curtain of clouds

Roberta Beach Jacobson

By Maria Teresa Piras

May rain -

scent of mint

in the wind

Maria Teresa Piras

By Shagun Wasan

every nightmare ends this too

Shagun Wasan

By JL Huffman

water moccasins

slither to higher ground

to dry their wet feet

JL Huffman

Lafcadio

guiding rhythm

of the dance

sunbeams

Lafcadio

By Christian Garduno

If I had to choose

anyone it would be you

over and over

Christian Garduno

By Pat Geyer

birthday outing...

a scenic ride into

my golden years

Pat Geyer

By Kristen Lindquist

spring flow

deep green water

over the dam's brim
 

Kristen Lindquist

By Diana Teneva

my mum tells

her love stories...

white lace

Diana Teneva

By Dan Iulian

in the old baobab

a tiny thread of wind

hostage

Dan Iulian

By Carmela Marino

wet sand

I sit on someone else's

loneliness

Carmela Marino

By Alfred Booth

encounter ...

sunlight dims to welcome

its honeymoon


Alfred Booth

By Agus Maulana Sunjaya

awakened

by sunlight ...

an old (r)egret


Agus Maulana Sunjaya

Patricia Hawkhead

morning light

the prism splits new colours

in his eyes

Patricia Hawkhead

Invent Your Moon

Look for the moon this June at Cold Moon Journal. Name your moon. Define your moon. Invent your moon.

You are invited to submit moon poems of one to five lines (haiku/senryu/tanka flavor). Submit up to three original moon poems in the English language (those appearing on social media fine) to coldmoonjournal@gmail.com between June 1 to June 10 only. Note: This will be the sole window of opportunity for our June submissions.

No acceptance/rejection notices will be sent during June. Just visit Cold Moon Journal to view the moon during June.

By Ram Chandran

handful of water

drop by drop

slips through fingers

Ram Chandran

By Susan Bonk Plumridge

drizzle reaches

under the brim of my hat

morning walk

Susan Bonk Plumridge

By Carmela Marino

May clouds

from nothing to nothing

a seed comes back

Carmela Marino

By Vladislav Hristov

fireflies in the yard

granny’s voice

remains unchanged


Vladislav Hristov