Cold Moon Journal

Cold Moon Journal
Photo c. Alf B. Meier

Saturday, March 9, 2024

By Robert Epstein

Ides of March ––

I stop looking for love

in all the wrong places

Robert Epstein



the manipulation continues daylight savings

Robert Epstein



wild licorice

with every bite

decades melt away

Robert Epstein


By Ravi Kiran

elevator stillness

blinking numbers

and eyelids

Ravi Kiran

By Richard Bailly

click click

escaping the nightmare

ruby slippers

Richard Bailly



oolong

in the kettle

too long

Richard Bailly

By M. R. Pelletier

Mid-morning lull ...

   the barista busies himself

   with a broom

M. R. Pelletier

By Monica Kakkar

bounty of bright breeze—

ribbons and laces askew

leapfrog on leap day

Monica Kakkar

By Mircea Moldovan

so much light and yet dark

Mircea Moldovan

 

 

a hedge

between him and her

winter end


Mircea Moldovan

By Mark Forrester

corner hutch—

my grandmother’s glass

for cutting biscuits

Mark Forrester

Friday, March 8, 2024

By Kelly Sargent

war and peace

not always

black and white

Kelly Sargent



creeping ivy

through the wagon handle

the decisions

I make

by indecision

Kelly Sargent



winter sky swallows the words I can’t take back

Kelly Sargent

By JL Huffman

unnatural glow

backlit mountain ridges

boros below

JL Huffman



snowbound day

chili heats

palate and soul

JL Huffman

By Marcellin Dallaire-Beaumont

on the doorstep

will she finally enter

new moon

Marcellin Dallaire-Beaumont

By Anne Curran

foreign posting

the aerograms

I write home


Anne Curran



city square

the clink of loose change

into the busker's hat

Anne Curran



city square

the sweet melodies

of a weary busker

Anne Curran

By Priti Khullar

social media

tattered flag at a hill

battling to be seen

Priti Khullar

By Barrie Levine

outbox draft

deleting the dear

in her dear john letter


Barrie Levine


 

in his place

in my bed

the cat


Barrie Levine


 

his first recital

a round of applause

for all the pink


Barrie Levine

By Neena Singh

half moon

hides in the pine...

words left unsaid

Neena Singh


 

a barn owl's cry:

the dark circles

under my eyes

Neena Singh

Monday, March 4, 2024

By Steliana Cristina Voicu

in bloom…

the scent of light

of your hand cream

Steliana Cristina Voicu



crab apple moon

the painter carefully rounds

a blossom

Steliana Cristina Voicu



majestic moon

growing from the silence

plum blossoms

Steliana Cristina Voicu

By Sharon Ferrante

I watch a candle

warm itself

on my wall

I want that passion

in the yellow haze

Sharon Ferrante



I always

tell the truth—

it was me

who threw Jupiter

her little moons

Sharon Ferrante



I wonder

if I leave my cloak

in your cold forest

will it take away

your shiver?


Sharon Ferrante

By Sankara Jayanth

white dove

a token totem

for non-existent peace

Sankara Jayanth



perennials not without goodbyes


Sankara Jayanth

By Susan Yavaniski

flu season . . .

the hypochondriac

senses demise

in a single sneeze

that could wake the dead

Susan Yavaniski



a big smile. . .

hiding the wrinkles

in my confidence

Susan Yavaniski



ear doctor

surely the whole office hears

my diagnosis

Susan Yavaniski



claiming the American dream an American gun

Susan Yavaniski

By Stephen Jarrell Williams

dancing on rooftops

new declaration

end of all wars


Stephen Jarrell Williams

By Shasta Hatter

watercolor

of purple and blue

moon rising

Shasta Hatter



fog

in distant trees...

funeral rites


Shasta Hatter

By Susan Burch

pollen counting the ways you hate me

Susan Burch

By Stephanie Zepherelli

bitter wind

lost voices

of loved ones

Stephanie Zepherelli



carving wood

i remember dad’s hands

covered in dust

Stephanie Zepherelli



butterfly wings

perfectly balanced

spring equinox

Stephanie Zepherelli



barren landscape

one flower blooming

is enough


Stephanie Zepherelli

By Steve Van Allen

birds fly a pathless path

with no contrail

Steve Van Allen

Sunday, March 3, 2024

By Ruth Holzer

only after

you switch the light off

in the hall

and the last plane of the night

descends, can I fall asleep

Ruth Holzer



windstorm

reading a letter

not meant for me


Ruth Holzer

By David He

first kiss

the dark mystery

of a new moon

David He

By Pitt Büerken

trial

the judge drops

the gavel


Pitt Büerken