By Diana Teneva

a dandelion…

long-forgotten secrets

in the silence

Diana Teneva

By Barrie Levine

service dog

guarding

my inner silence

Barrie Levine

*

 

before plastic the velvet edge of sea glass

Barrie Levine

By Pippa Phillips

dwindling twilight

the silence eats

a cicada

Pippa Phillips

 

*

 

doomscrolling—

the green

of an unwitnessed tree

Pippa Phillips

By David Josephsohn

kitchen drawer

the clanging of knives

sharpens my appetite

David Josephsohn

*

 

tornado warning

the winds laugh

at our intrusion

David Josephsohn

By Susan Burch

braying donkey I make an ass of myself

Susan Burch

*

 

King Arthur camped out on my couchalot

Susan Burch

By Mona Bedi

wayward wind

learning to be

indifferent

Mona Bedi

By Bisshie

snowflakes at midnight

the wino warms his hands

over the oil drum

Bisshie

By Mirela Brăilean

transfusion

all these unknown

blood brothers

Mirela Brăilean

By Herbert Shippey

floorboards creak

the house settles

into old age

Herbert Shippey

By Maya Daneva

New Year’s covid

measuring my fever

for first time

Maya Daneva

 

*

Father’s Day

thinking of the kidney donor

of my father

Maya Daneva

By Gerald Friedman

morning glory flowers

die in a day

but those from stems trimmed off

tossed in the shade

last and last.

Gerald Friedman

By Birk Andersson

side by side

the names of the dead

antique bookshop

Birk Andersson

By Naomi G Tangonan

mother’s wheelchair

empty for years now

i still hug her there

Naomi G Tangonan

By Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

scent of pine away from the hustle

Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

*

 

until i can no longer mourn this dried up river

Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

*

avalanche

when i gaze

into my past

Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

*

winter

but i am always

ravenous

Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

*

then watch me dissolve into the cosmos

Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

By Mona Bedi

winter stars

this wish to return

home
 

Mona Bedi

*

 

back home

I caress a pebble

from the mountain

Mona Bedi

By Mark Scott

winter moon

finding joy in 100

unfinished haiku

Mark Scott

*

 

winter sunrise–

always the crow

never the sparrow

Mark Scott

By Angiola Inglese

moving house–

different and the same

I look at the moon

Angiola Inglese

By John Paul Caponigro

snow drifts

filling my footsteps

the way home is lost

John Paul Caponigro

By Emma Alexander Arthur

snowfall
stones with hats
in the Zen garden

Emma Alexander Arthur

*

 

fifty years on
still the same figure
Christmas Barbie

Emma Alexander Arthur

By Sébastien Revon

Wolf Moon
making friend
with my shadow

Sébastien Revon

*

sparking sun
shadows shorten
on the frosted field

Sébastien Revon

*
 

ancient cemetery
only winter sun
visits the graves

Sébastien Revon

By Agus Maulana Sunjaya

first day of the year

more than I can imagine

robin songs

Agus Maulana Sunjaya

*

 

 

rusty fence

overwhelmed by

poison ivy

the thought of you

lingers

Agus Maulana Sunjaya

 

*

 

a stray cat

on my welcome mat

overcast sky

Agus Maulana Sunjaya

By Andrew Markowski

zen retreat

emptying

my wallet

Andrew Markowski

*

 

 

blank canvas

an artist paints

her nails

Andrew Markowski

 

*

 

improv class

a student makes up an excuse

for being late

Andrew Markowski

By David Cox

green house spider—

the tomato

stalking me

David Cox

By Ram Chandran

night train full moon travels with me intermittently

Ram Chandran

By Kerry J Heckman

campfire

her eyes follow a moth

to the flame

Kerry J Heckman

*

 

 

homecoming

the unbroken sky

of the prairie

Kerry J Heckman

By Françoise Maurice

two grey cranes

in the harvested rice field

december shadows

Françoise Maurice

By Aftab Yusuf Shaikh

dish of moon at night

the trees begin to undress

selfish lover-you!

Aftab Yusuf Shaikh

By Darrell Petska

pine woods meditation

each hushed step

one with the next


Darrell Petska

 

*

 

cut     trim     cut     trim

sleeping farmworkers’ hands

still picking broccoli


Darrell Petska

 

*

 snow flurries

I     just     don’t     know

what to think

Darrell Petska

By James Penha

tiers of brown soil

rice terraces harvested

tears of spent labor

James Penha

By Govind Joshi

rising sun 

the mountains wear 

an orange hue

Govind Joshi 

*

 

summer tour

we shower 

in a waterfall

Govind Joshi