Federico C. Peralta

voting day—

discourses of birds

in every tree

—Federico C. Peralta

Amish Taxi, a haibun by Andrew Grossman

Red brick church hides the choir. The taxi driver knows they are singing. She is there to take them home. Their Scriptures make no room for her- a gay woman with a Jamaican partner-but they’ll let her drive them in her 15 seat van, their bodies in the seats, going where they must go, their cash under the table. Farmers in straw hats and suspenders, threshing wheat and raking hay. The corn is already four feet high. A wet summer. 

Amish are outside her life, but sit beside her. They talk about shortcuts. She gets paid for every mile she drives them, $1.10 per. An Amish woman will have another baby next week. The taxi will take the extended family to visit. Amish women have babies until they pass the age of fertility. The taxi driver rides with her snickerdoodle on her lap. 

   noon siren 

   crows and seagulls fly up 

   from their lines

Haiga, by Xiaoou Chen & Zixia Liu

Text by Chen Xiaouu, Image by Liu Zixia

 

Alvin B. Cruz

the light

in mother's last days

dawn stars

—Alvin B. Cruz

mother's belongings

in boxes

gathering clouds

—Alvin B. Cruz

choosing her funeral photo sepia moon

—Alvin B. Cruz

In memoriam

Adoracion Bulaong Cruz

(1938-2025)

Thomas Landgraf

my undoing

the forth button

of her denim jacket

—Thomas Landgraf

Lakshmi Iyer

abandoned tuk-tuk

both dog and the beggar 

part with their space

—Lakshmi Iyer

outgrown weeds

a small forest

from nowhere

—Lakshmi Iyer

the crows keep

straightening their feathers

heavy rains

—Lakshmi Iyer

Jerome Berglund

the letters 

arrive dampened 

spill light

—Jerome Berglund

Bryan Rickert

midnight snack

the refrigerator light

draws in a moth

—Bryan Rickert

the split path reconnects our marriage 

—Bryan Rickert

Stephen C. Curro

dusk

owls repeating

each other’s calls

—Stephen C. Curro

Veronika Zora Novak

oceanside . . .

a faceless man 

leaves footprints 

—Veronika Zora Novak

Susan Burch

free at last rites

—Susan Burch

Sarah Mirabile-Blacker

spaghetti forks

splashing red 

on hospital sheets

—Sarah Mirabile-Blacker

Belinda Behne

dandelion field

chasing barefoot

wishes

—Belinda Behne

Luciana Moretto

upside-down world

the children's 

somersaults

—Luciana Moretto

John Zheng

gravel road a crunchy gospel to a country chapel

—John Zheng

Srinivasa Rao Sambangi

inchworm

my grandson

and I

—Srinivasa Rao Sambangi

Mona Bedi

always misunderstood the deep red of my lipstick

—Mona Bedi

Stephen Page

bored—

at the end of the platform 

an old friend

—Stephen Page

Mona Iordan

city hubbub 

the unruffled song 

of a blackbird 

—Mona Iordan

vacarmul orașului 

cântecul netulburat 

al unei mierle

—Mona Iordan

Manasa Reddy Chichili

cherry petals

on shivering pink lips

spring wind

—Manasa Reddy Chichili

hiding somewhere

sharing secrets with blue sky

a little kid

—Manasa Reddy Chichili

Fatma Zohra Habis

folded into

the morning's silence

road home

—Fatma Zohra Habis

Jamie Wimberly

country roads

all of us singing

of home

—Jamie Wimberly

sunflowers

noonday weighing

on bent backs

—Jamie Wimberly

bell-shaped

amid the foxglove

a past self

—Jamie Wimberly

Nicoletta Ignatti

bales of hay— 

drying in the sun 

old wounds

—Nicoletta Ignatti

Govind Joshi

 spring afternoon 

a lemon tree branch full 

of warblers' song

—Govind Joshi

Vandana Parashar

the sculptor 

stops chiselling god’s eye 

blinding sun 

—Vandana Parashar