By Elena Malec

cut up watermelon

sunset sky sinking

into the ocean

Elena Malec

By Barbara Anna Gaiardoni

road coast that

smells of strawberry

metal roofs


Barbara Anna Gaiardoni

*

 

the sun inside

bye-bye sadness

goodbye

Barbara Anna Gaiardoni

By A.J. Anwar

old street—

beneath the asphalt layers

my childhood footsteps

A.J. Anwar

 

*

flea market—

the haggles for something

priceless

A.J. Anwar

By Mirela Brăilean

rain of leaves drought

Mirela Brăilean

 

*

 

first date

his cheap smell

of desire

Mirela Brăilean

By Arvinder Kaur

the discourse on crooked toes   ageism

Arvinder Kaur

 

*

house sale

the wicket gate moans

one last time

Arvinder Kaur

By Bonnie J Scherer

mending socks —

mom heels

a broken heart

Bonnie J Scherer

By Chen-ou Liu

the tinkle

of my baby's laughter

this night of stars

Chen-ou Liu

 

*

a drift of blossoms

my Birman sleeps away

her last days

Chen-ou Liu

By Barrie Levine

suburban autumn

leaf blowing away

the season

Barrie Levine

By David Kāwika Eyre

august drought

she asks about

daffodil bulbs

David Kāwika Eyre

*

in one hop

the grasshopper

becomes grass

David Kāwika Eyre

By Jimmy Pappas

Saigon downpour


children swim

in the streets

Jimmy Pappas

*

 

plugged

into the earth . . .

 daffodil yellow

 Jimmy Pappas

By Stephen C. Curro

magic hour

the clop of hooves

down the road

Stephen C. Curro

 *

alpenglow

a golden moon

in silken clouds

Stephen C. Curro

*

 

half asleep

the hiss of bacon

in the pan

Stephen C. Curro

By Cloris Shi

high school

scrubbing insults off

bathroom stalls

Cloris Shi

By Mona Bedi

summer sunset

I catch my breath

in the lake’s reflection

Mona Bedi

 

*

 

deep winter—

mom’s lullaby sneaks

into my dream

Mona Bedi

By Nani Mariani

rainy moon

mourning flowers around the world

for Queen Elizabeth II


Nani Mariani

By Herbert Shippey

power lines

hum in the wind

all day

an old hymn

stuck in my head

Herbert Shippey

By Gabriel Rosenstock

all i know is this

the cello has fallen still

and all is quiet:

       the music of what is not

       ah, what strange music that is

Gabriel Rosenstock

*

alone with his thoughts

one thought flowering among weeds

quickly vanishes

              a thought that may yet return

              on the day his hair turns grey

Gabriel Rosenstock

By Adrian Bouter

day of leaving

I put our moon

in my backpack

Adrian Bouter

*

rock bottom love is a river

Adrian Bouter

By Patrick Sweeney

the autographed page torn out

Patrick Sweeney

*

 

again today ignoring the lump

Patrick Sweeney

 

*

I only like the idea of strawberries

Patrick Sweeney

*

in a room alone rooting for the underdog

Patrick Sweeney

By Uchechukwu Onyedikam and Christina Chin

lone light

candle flame

in the dark

Uchechukwu Onyedikam

insects and birds

die by it

Christina Chin

By Christopher Peys

the flutter by

of the butterfly

i too am changed

Christopher Peys

 

 

*

 

 

under the sycamore

with a sandwich

and summer

Christopher Peys

By Maria Cristina Pulvirenti

Autumn star

I always travel

the same road

Maria Cristina Pulvirenti

By Mike Gallagher

down platform

doors bang open and shut

on our silence

Mike Gallagher

*

 

 

frogspawn

the future of the planet

somehow surer

Mike Gallagher

*

 

 

no space

to be different

rowdy playground

Mike Gallagher

By Mariel Herbert

ginkgo

the dog stops to mark

my words


Mariel Herbert

By Ray Spitzenberger

toad plops

in cat’s water bowl

a hiss, a slap

Ray Spitzenberger

*

 

 

a walker

corrects my wobble

at eighty-eight

Ray Spitzenberger

By Joseph P. Wechselberger

childless

and the only child of an only child …

the brief lives of mayflies

Joseph P. Wechselberger

By Susan Bonk Plumridge

63 . . .

few words 

left to share

Susan Bonk Plumridge

 

*

 

63 . . .

deep stretch

in my knees

Susan Bonk Plumridge

 

 

*

 

63 . . .

summer heat

late in August
 

Susan Bonk Plumridge

By Kelly Moyer

golden anniversary

his affinity for her

heirloom tomatoes

Kelly Moyer

By Rupa Anand

not a soul in sight—

my footsteps follow me

on this wooded path

Rupa Anand

 

*

neighbourhood park—

on discarded idols

moss drapes herself

Rupa Anand