along the lines
of the sacred text
bird
poop
image and words Ranu
Jain
breezy day
the old curtain springs
to a sensuous dance
image and words Ranu
Jain
incense smoke
improvising
a silent raga
image and words Ranu
Jain
along the lines
of the sacred text
bird
poop
image and words Ranu
Jain
breezy day
the old curtain springs
to a sensuous dance
image and words Ranu
Jain
incense smoke
improvising
a silent raga
image and words Ranu
Jain
mountain
trekking
the stretch of the shadow
into twilight
Srinivasa Rao Sambangi
inchworm
the
drift and drag
of the universe
Srinivasa Rao Sambangi
Independence
Day
an old woman
on our morning walk
parts the way
to
her master's home
Srinivasa Rao Sambangi
kitchen
talk his words a rusty knife
Oana Maria Cercel & Timothy Daly
daybreak
the grey clouds
fringed
with gold
Xiaoou Chen
full gallop
the clatter of arrows
in
the quiver
Xiaoou Chen
Irish
Sea crossing dead kin's bones
Timothy Daly
warm
bookshop reading her smile
Timothy Daly
we wear crowns
made solely of garden weeds
brave
backyard champions
Joana Figueiredo
wincing glance
the beginning
of
a cruel winter
Joana Figueiredo
mackerel sky
falling falling falling
hard landing
hard landing
blood-red sunset
waxing gibbous moon
waxing gibbous moon
total eclipse of the heart
mackerel
sky
Olinda Ninolakis
a snarl
the sinuous wrap
of his purr
repose
on the doorstep, the warrior
—and
a dead bird
Suraja Menon Roychowdhury
foster care bedroom
on the walls
cherry
blossoms
Kelly Sargent
my origin story
in mother’s eyes . . .
ancient
starlight
Kelly Sargent
morning
rain
with thunder . . .
breathing techniques
to nurse
the hangover
and the heartache
Anthony Lusardi
determined
to live
from her window
and in bed
the chemo
patient
watching leaves fall
Anthony Lusardi
I remember
they were her favorites
forget-me-nots
Mark Hendrickson
trumpets raised
for fallen soldiers
peace
lilies
Mark Hendrickson
grandma’s
final blessing
a shooting star sparkles
then fades
Douglas
J. Lanzo
dust
bowl
a mother partridge
lathering sand
Douglas J.
Lanzo
runaway
train
an EF5 tornado
catches the caboose
Douglas J.
Lanzo
Athena’s tags
mosaicked onto headstone
her collar
never returned by vet
unless
it’s in the ashes
Diane Funston
after our long vacation
away from poetry groups
I return
but still entranced
by
Mexico’s colors
Diane Funston
cold moon
her silhouette
in
the window
Shawn Blair
going gray
a fish crow disappears
into
sea fog
Shawn Blair
lace curtains . . .
snowflakes blackening
the
road
Shawn Blair
mourning doves
in the park
a pair
of Civil War cannons
blazing
in the sun
Shawn Blair
bone broth
smoke rising
over
the quarry
Shawn Blair
spring night
a ladder not quite reaching
the
cat
Shawn Blair
if only
these golden flowers
were
sunrise
Joanna Ashwell
holding a part
of our dream
dandelion
meadow
Joanna Ashwell
A mother's voice:
the stillness of trees
before
a burst of blossom.
Laurie Kuntz
From my view
the ocean offers little relief
still
I look.
Laurie Kuntz
Mockingbird song
the empty cherry tree
overflowing
Jonathan
English
circle of full moon
shining through mist and pine
even
in this city
Jonathan English
moist spring earth
the wings of the butterfly
lifting
Jonathan English
spring serenade—
under the green holly tree
the
bumblebee and I
Jonathan English
hammock
–
evening falls before
the afterword
Elena Zouain
summer
rain –
in my garden the blue hydrangea
even bluer
Elena
Zouain
summer solstice –
I listen to the
whispers
of scented shadows
Elena Zouain
white
roses –
the moon keeps
the secret
Elena Zouain
a summer ginkgo walk –
Isha, Basho, and Issa
in
every verse I write
Lakshman Bulusu
Robin chirping
brought to life in my mind
your touch –
one more kiss
and
I would join you.
S.Eta Grubešić
twigs
S.Eta Grubešić
low tide
life comes out of the sea
again
Eugeniusz Zacharski
killer heat
at the watering hole
a
pack of wolves
Eugeniusz Zacharski
tangoing
as one forgotten step
Rita Melissano
she's still here
for some strange reason
clocks run backwards
the storm after the quiet
a
phoenix's return to ashes
Rita Melissano
countless years
when our life was a rainbow
in the night
tête-à -tête, cheek to cheek,
holding
a thousand candles
Rita Melissano
listening
to the voice within
the mirror...
its whispers a breath
left
in the fog
Rita Melissano
what is left
of the Japanese garden
the lantern
a lighthouse sitting on a bluff
above
the blue, smooth pebbles
Rita
Melissano