glass beads the rainbow on her face
Mircea Moldovan
cold
night
to cross the darkness
I collect words
Anna
Maria Domburg-Sancristoforo
outside
a cat basks
in the dryer vent's warm breeze
lint in its whiskers
Jenna
Manley
yesterday’s paper
lines homeless man’s dreams
with what could have
been
Douglas
J. Lanzo
from the hospital gate
two paths are beginning...
only
one to home
Vasile
Moldovan
classical dance
the divine proportion—
she once talked
of a blooming lotus
on
a stone buddha's lap
Milan
Rajkumar
nomadland
between a cactus
and a singing stone
having dinner on clay plates
with a stranger
Mircea Moldovan