language of flowers
does lilac have an accent
in
the English garden
Marcellin Dallaire-Beaumont
two lines on the test
my girlfriend is going to have
a
coronavirus
Marcellin Dallaire-Beaumont
language of flowers
does lilac have an accent
in
the English garden
Marcellin Dallaire-Beaumont
two lines on the test
my girlfriend is going to have
a
coronavirus
Marcellin Dallaire-Beaumont
all that
remains
down
to
the dark
alone
Chen-ou Liu
where were you born?
a neighbor's knife-sharp question ...
near the fence
I see green leaves and buds
on
a maple tree stump
Chen-ou Liu
my body lies
next to my wife's for years
and yet
in a corner of my mind
this
woman in red
Chen-ou Liu
spring
the
war picks up
pace again
Pitt Büerken
he
cheers
she wonders
it works
Pitt Büerken
rolling
mist
blue-gray mountains
awaken
Douglas J. Lanzo
steeped
in endless fog
mountain folds
older than glaciers
Douglas J. Lanzo
watertolandtowater
again and again
the
tide turns
Deborah Karl-Brandt
stepping around
one million earthworms
spring
rain
Deborah Karl-Brandt
jazz quintet
grooving inside
the
storm
Kathryn Haydon
faking a smile
plastic ferns
in
the dentist’s office
Kathryn Haydon
exchanged glances
petals of daisies
scattered
in the wind
Rosa Maria Di Salvatore
lunar
eclipse
the frayed edges
of her memory
Mona Bedi
airport clocks —
all the places
i could be
Mona Bedi
cloud
spotting my troubles shifting shape
Nicola Schaum
sensory extension
the deaf cat sees, I listen
summer
rain
Nicola Schaum
termite tango
drifting wings
glisten
at dusk
Nicola Schaum
The sound of the harp
in the heart of a forest
invigorates me
relieving my mind with grace
providing
peace to my soul
Olivia Sitlub
from the brush
a rabbit with a torn ear
evening
chill
Wilda Morris
translucent windows
of an old house
cicada
skin
Wilda Morris
cutting
his own hair
the boy
still in my son
Tony Williams
desire
path
the scent of something
that isn’t here
Tony
Williams
quieter
the
path
between the trees
Tony Williams
late arrival
mum joins the family
grave
John Hawkhead
schoolyard teams
the last one picked
the
first to die
John Hawkhead
eggs fried
crisp around the edges …
learning
to say no
Joseph P. Wechselberger
tasting the moon—
the way your eyes look
looking
at me
Joseph P. Wechselberger
a phone number written
inside an old matchbook …
yard
sale sport coat
Joseph P. Wechselberger
the smell of fresh-baked pie
a game of checkers
on
the front porch
Joseph P. Wechselberger
crushed sun hat
mosaics
form
a point
Jerome Berglund
down the aisle
bird sanctuary
Jerome Berglund
red truck
driving away
my
midlife crisis
Jharna Sanyal
birds at dusk ...
so much to say
to
each other
Jharna Sanyal
limitless—
a toddler's
whys
Jennifer Gurney
souvenir
of a springtime hike—
muddy
boots
Jennifer Gurney
breathing life
into winter...
spring
Jennifer Gurney
solar eclipse
from the woods
sound
of crickets
John J. Dunphy
church fire
its steeple bell rung by
fire
hose water
John J. Dunphy
the
earth is still in
eight billion little pieces
after the
eclipse
J. D. Nelson
crows
in the windy matrix the half day moon just is
J. D. Nelson
I
tell the houseplants
that it’s a little hazy
second week
of spring
J. D. Nelson
on
the night bus disorienting window reflections
J. D. Nelson
orange
spring sunset
a snack of four clementines
on the bus ride
home
J. D. Nelson
dabbing
on my charcoal drawing
something of you
in
each contour
Arvinder Kaur
cold moon
one more silhouette
mingles
into fog
Arvinder Kaur
leaves drop
each one goes down
with
a dance
Arvinder Kaur
In the Pasture
I was in my mother's arms, the raindrops pounding on our black umbrella, just above my head. Her left arm around me, holding the umbrella as well. In her right hand she held a rope tied to the head of our cow.
on the rope
connecting us with the cow
rainbow raindrops
D. V. Rozic