By Vandana Parashar

fifty-eight

the age my father

never reached

Vandana Parashar

therapy

lying on my back

watching the sky

Vandana Parashar

By Deborah Karl-Brandt

news on TV

choosing to write about

pink tulips

Deborah Karl-Brandt

By Surya Nes

Climate change


melting ice

Iceberg Alley

is a dead end

Surya Nes

By Mike Fainzilber

staring at the moon

trying to find

your reflection

Mike Fainzilber

love thy enemy

the one

I married

Mike Fainzilber

after the parting

sunrise and sunset

in grayscale

Mike Fainzilber

cloth on cloth

so near

too far…

Mike Fainzilber

what a view, you say

I see

only you

Mike Fainzilber

a haiku dream

when the soul

meets itself

Mike Fainzilber

By Mariangela Canzi

sudden truce —

hanging wash

over the rubble

Mariangela Canzi

lonely conch the exile's blues

Mariangela Canzi

words float

in my mind...

new Beatles song


Mariangela Canzi

By Mike Gallagher

a scream

the dim moon bringing life

to darkness

Mike Gallagher

that day

when the world changed forever

what I was doing

Mike Gallagher

drunken melee

several cases of assault

brewing

Mike Gallagher

By Maya Daneva

snowy March

the creaking sound of little boots…

egg hunt begins

Maya Daneva

smooth talk…

I rinse off the wild clams

for third time

Maya Daneva

By Michael Smith

in the clear still pool

of your haiku I have seen

my own reflection

Michael Smith

By Randy Brooks

rent overdue

locked out with nothing

but a comb-over

Randy Brooks

thick family Bible

she only keeps up

with births

Randy Brooks

warming up

the farmhouse kitchen

banana bread

Randy Brooks

not toy guns

not real guns

she wants nothing to do

with guns in her house

ever. again.

Randy Brooks

By Refika Dedić

in an old book

after all these years

her letter

Refika Dedić

still winter

and they are sticking out of the ground

buds

Refika Dedić

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

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

Five Fleas Itchy Poetry

By Stephen Jarrell Williams

 

  Family of Birds

Stephen Jarrell Williams

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