Cold Moon Journal

Cold Moon Journal
Photo c. Alf B. Meier

Wednesday, August 7, 2024

By Kelly Moyer

 

 

 

 

Express Yourself

Kelly Moyer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Lizzy Lu


Kelly Moyer

 

 

 


 

 

                                                                                                                                                          Longing

                                                                                                                                                    Kelly Moyer

Tuesday, August 6, 2024

By Alvaro Carrasquel Gomez

loneliness

the bitter cost

of being myself

Alvaro Carrasquel Gomez

By Deborah Karl-Brandt

playing favorites

our bunny likes me

better than him

Deborah Karl-Brandt

By Robin Dake

Fairy Circles


Early grass wet, cool.

Mushrooms growing in the round,

Nature’s fungi art.

I lie down for the picture

And hear the fairies singing.

Robin Dake

By Joan E. Cashin

The sun fades at last

so a paragraph of light

can tell us the tale.

Joan E. Cashin

By Kelly Sargent

twister tangled in your blues

Kelly Sargent



gypsy moth wanderings before my wings

Kelly Sargent

By Monica Kakkar

sitārist solos . . .

in the sweep of a sārī

solstice strawberry


Monica Kakkar

By K. Ramesh

small town...

throughout the rain

the football match

K. Ramesh

By Fatma Zohra Habis

behind the window

alone with autumn

rain

Fatma Zohra Habis

By Jerome Berglund

stripping off

soaked garments

socks still dry


Jerome Berglund



kingdom builders

roofing

and gutters

Jerome Berglund

By Eugeniusz Zacharski

in a trench

a quarrel between soldiers

over a property line

Eugeniusz Zacharski

Friday, August 2, 2024

By Ann Sullivan

mountain drive . . .

the spider spins

a silk road

Ann Sullivan

By Anju Kishore

peace talks

the sky gathers

in shades of grey

Anju Kishore


storm alert —

the sky a screech

of parrots


Anju Kishore



thunderstorm —

the night

keeps breaking

Anju Kishore

By Mark Forrester

reading nursery rhymes—

I pause

where my mother paused


Mark Forrester

By John Zheng

tornado then blue sky then family albums in the rubbles

John Zheng


 

golden grass in flying manes chasing our car

John Zheng

By Barrie Levine

summer week

all the bedrooms filled

in grandma’s house

Barrie Levine


 

city heat . . .

all-day panting

in the dog park

Barrie Levine

By Susan Burch

nudist my mascara streaking

Susan Burch

By Sharon Ferrante

midnight dip

how warm

the fondue

Sharon Ferrante



I get too close

then he leaves me

owl on the lamppost

Sharon Ferrante



shhhh…

says the wind

to the reeds

Sharon Ferrante

By Brad Bennett

false spring

a trail newly closed

for restoration

Brad Bennett

By Biswajit Mishra

summing up

evolution

a butterfly

Biswajit Mishra



peace talk

warring factions

share a lunch

Biswajit Mishra



things we left

unsaid

day moon

Biswajit Mishra

By Susan Pope

Her invisible childhood friend

Where is she now?

Still by her side

Susan Pope

By Daniela Misso

autumn rain –

grandma's sewing machine

silent in the corner

Daniela Misso



short night –

a station master's whistle

in the distance

Daniela Misso



I go back

to see the rubble

silence of stars

Daniela Misso

 

 

sea foam . . .

fleeting memories

take shape

Daniela Misso

By Mike Gallagher

more distant

lighthouse beams dancing

on the waves

Mike Gallagher

Thursday, August 1, 2024

By Kimberly Kuchar

glittering scales . . .

a flying fish skates

on the edge of two worlds

Kimberly Kuchar



braided river

I can't be everywhere

at once

Kimberly Kuchar



moonless night

I don’t want to walk this road

without you

Kimberly Kuchar



      cloud    seeding 


each                       word 


    brings me closer

          t   o         t

                       e

                 a

                       r  

                 s

Kimberly Kuchar



sideways rain

you always know

just what to say

Kimberly Kuchar

By Vandana Parashar

soundless rain

his story dies

with him

Vandana Parashar

By Bryan Rickert

drought moss

not as resilient

as I used to be

Bryan Rickert



high tide

I, too, feel the pull

of this moon

Bryan Rickert



telling me more

than I needed to know

old country song

Bryan Rickert