A kite flies freely,
harmonising with the breeze,
its string broken,
surrendering to
the
destiny of the wind.
David Ngo
Elephants and turtles
dance in the wind,
while lemongrass and tom yum
swirl in the air,
amidst
a babel of languages.
David Ngo
night lightning
the restlessness
in
the stables
Ravi Kiran
koi pond
no sign that says
no
fishing
Ravi Kiran
Afghan flower girl—
bunches of pink tulip
in
her black eyes
Krzysztof Kokot
the war—
at the butcher's door
skinny
dog
Krzysztof Kokot
spring breeze
through the stairway window
the
pines
Govind Joshi
spring rain
in the silence
a
brown leaf
Govind Joshi
strawberries
summer feelings up by two euros
than
the year before
Deborah Karl-Brandt
perfect
summer days for snails another downpour
Deborah Karl-Brandt
summer day
a surfer rides
the
rising sun
Neena Singh
my arms
cradle the dog
into
the grave
Neena Singh
city
pigeons
always something
to peck at
Tony Williams
thunder
answering thunder
with thunder
Tony
Williams
street light
the distant echo
of
a birthday party
Françoise Maurice
every so often
through the clouds
the
Moon
Françoise Maurice
jam
session
a cupboard lined
with mason jars
Marilyn
Ashbaugh
the
daisies
say it best
morning sun
Marilyn Ashbaugh
Space station—
who hears the mouse’s
frightened squeak?
M. R. Pelletier
Kitchen window—
a stray dog
in the front yard
M. R. Pelletier
sunflowers
my shadow and I
move
around
Nisha Raviprasad
broken vase
I bottle my tears
once
again
Nisha Raviprasad
after all this time...
chocolate donut
touches
my lips
Jovana Dragojlovic
somewhere else...
sounds like a place without
any
problem
Jovana Dragojlovic
tangled
in the moonlit clouds
my
sobriety
Oana Maria Cercel
missing you
another morning
lasts
a year
Oana Maria Cercel
hazy
hills
alone
in the crowd
nameless
tree
words Timothy Daly
image Oana Maria Cercel
in the night
croaks from the old pond
all
alike
Keith Evetts
where they think
great Caesar crossed the Thames
...just
the moon
Keith Evetts
the door slammed shut ...
my world without her shrinks
to
a tv screen
Chen-ou Liu
the door
open to blue skies
in the stillness
a caged eagle and I
become
one
Chen-ou Liu
delayed monsoon
the heft of rice seeds
in
the burlap sacks
Suraj Nanu
long distance call . . .
a winter butterfly
darts
from the bucket
Suraj Nanu
folding
paper dolls
mother tells me
what it means
to
be a man
Alvin B. Cruz
his twin sons
coming out
double
rainbow
Alvin B. Cruz
enough
said soundless wind chimes
Alvin B. Cruz
a stone bench
warm with sun
the
cat my mother loved
Robert Witmer
self help
the clerk at the bookstore
points
to the bottom shelf
Robert Witmer
lost in thought
a dandelion seed
in
the wind
Robert Witmer
war graves
the silence
of
forgetful flags
Robert Witmer
softly it falls
so gentle it’s a whisper–
first spring rain
Jennifer Gurney
planting 15
white Columbine
one
for each life lost
Jennifer Gurney
the candle’s scent
gently follows me upstairs
tucking
me into bed
Jennifer Gurney
washed clean
by the river
my
heart
Jennifer Gurney
solstice moon
I give the clouds
a
talking to
Helen Ogden
Juneteenth
black workers on overtime
at
the country club
Helen Ogden
the time it takes
the time it doesn't
first
rose
Helen Ogden
witch’s
ritual
she gives a bow
to
morning mist
Sharon Ferrante
burning sage
a crow cleans his wings
in
the rain
Sharon Ferrante
old brooms
we talk about
our
travels
Sharon Ferrante
this
dream ...
cape jasmine petals falling
on my sick bed
Milan Rajkumar
cycle
of life—
planting rice seedlings
in ancestors' field
Milan Rajkumar
summer
dawn
a glimpse of heaven
on the still pond
Milan
Rajkumar
nettle field
the deer know
a
way through
Bryan Rickert
to the bottom
of the sinkhole and back
butterfly
Bryan Rickert
all day hike
I emerge
human
again
Bryan
Rickert
no end
to the midday heat . . .
corn
maze
Barrie Levine
skipping
stones repeating our mistakes
Barrie Levine
beach
walk the permanence of trash
Barrie Levine
old raven
seems content
watching the sun set
into the broken
water
Tom Blessing
beneath
her hat a sadness in her eyes
Tom Blessing
starlight
the distant rumble
of
a log truck
Tom Blessing
the mare's gentle breathing . . .
what I've only ever told
the
wind
Chad Lee Robinson
birds singing
in the dark before dawn . . .
their names elude me
but I know yours
and
you know mine
Chad Lee Robinson
home from the vet--
the sound of my feet
alone
in the leaves
Chad Lee Robinson