Ricardo de la Concha

 drug raid

toddler reaches

for a laser dot

—Ricardo de la Concha

rough boulevard

neon lights smear

like cheap lipstick

—Ricardo de la Concha

insomnia

the city’s pulse

louder than my own

—Ricardo de la Concha

Anne Fox

night sky in her eyes the secret deepens

—Anne Fox

lowing wind

the sound of somewhere else

in her sigh

—Anne Fox

Oscar Luparia

highway queue

in the rearview mirror

evening rainbow 

—Oscar Luparia

Jennifer L. Blanck

tucked under a blanket of stars

—Jennifer L. Blanck 

painful memories 

the spinning cobwebs 

in my head

—Jennifer L. Blanck

M. R. Pelletier

robins on the lawn

no longer searching 

for myself

—M. R. Pelletier

Standing Wave, a haibun by Joshua St. Claire

I 

guess

it’s time

for me to 

stop thinking about

that stupid

thing I

said 

when 

I was 

just a kid

because I am all 

grown up now

and you 

are

dead

freezing from the outside in the Susquehanna 

—Joshua St. Claire

Dennis Owen Frohlich

autumn rain

sobbing

in the gutters

—Dennis Owen Frohlich

setting winter sun

the shadow lines

across the field

—Dennis Owen Frohlich

Gareth Nurden

carnival day

embedded in a glass river

cold sky

—Gareth Nurden

On The Road, a haibun by K. Ramesh

(for Vinayan)

There was a time I lived like a hobo—not on freight trains like Kerouac, but wandering through books, poetry, and jazz. I carried a Walkman with cassettes of Monk, Coltrane, and Brubeck. The 29C bus took me from Adyar to the American Library, and from there often to Landmark, where hours slipped by among books. I discovered Gary Snyder there, and my friend and I spoke endlessly of literature over coffee at Sangeetha. I introduced him to the Beats; he brought along his Mamiya C330 and took photos, each frame carefully chosen—only twelve per roll. Some evenings we browsed Shiva Bookstore on Mount Road, returning home with bags heavy with journals and poems. Landmark is gone, the 29C still runs, though the view from the bus now is broken by metro stations. 

subway... 

we pause to listen 

to the blind singer 

—K Ramesh

Mircea Moldovan

migrant's dream—

under the leaf pillow

a rusty ring

—Mircea Moldovan

campfire in the diary a blank page

—Mircea Moldovan

Srinivasa Rao Sambangi

history book

a leaf's veins

on two pages

—Srinivasa Rao Sambangi

Violet Avery Hall

dry leaves

another argument

with the boyfriend

—Violet Avery Hall

John J. Dunphy

time on my hands

I gather up sand from

a broken hourglass

— John J. Dunphy

at 71

all drugs I do

prescribed by doctors

—John J. Dunphy

Federico C. Peralta

 insomnia—

   unfinished haiku

      in the head

—Federico C. Peralta

dawn flowers—

the changing scent of

     grandpa's tea

—Federico C. Peralta

Joe Wells

eucharist

forcing my confession—

harvest moon

—Joe Wells

toddler's stone 

on the pond 

the broken sky 

—Joe Wells

Adrian Bouter

every thought

softer than the previous one...

           dandelion fluff

—Adrian Bouter

radio song  tears hide in my hanky

—Adrian Bouter

Mona Bedi

daily horoscope

how I wish

life was perfect

—Mona Bedi

Bryan Rickert

 berry’s blushing

in the bramble

lover’s moon

—Bryan Rickert

noon heat

minnows rest

in my shadow

—Bryan Rickert

pausing

after my sneeze

the cardinal’s song

—Bryan Rickert

out of the tree line

and over the field

a hawk’s cry

—Bryan Rickert

Manasa Reddy Chichili

mom's smile 

autumn bucket 

keeps filling

—Manasa Reddy Chichili 

Alvin B. Cruz

summer’s end

written in the sand:

I was here

—Alvin B. Cruz

abandoned garden

all that remains

a laughing Buddha

—Alvin B. Cruz

making the most of almost winter rose

—Alvin B. Cruz

Tony Williams

hot, humid day…

how can butterflies

be bothered

—Tony Williams

curling up in bed

the cold bits

of me

—Tony Williams

Milan Rajkumar

falling jasmines

across the silent valley ...

another year of war

—Milan Rajkumar 

Randy Brooks

church dinner

for family and friends

ghost stories

—Randy Brooks

Eugeniusz Zacharski

stork’s arrival

the hotel

returns to life

—Eugeniusz Zacharski

barefoot

on the stubble field –

the scarecrow

—Eugeniusz Zacharski

Fatma Zohra Habis

almond blossoms—

light clings at dawn

to mother’s apron

—Fatma Zohra Habis