By: K.G. Munro Selcouth Meadows Rarity is untouched pieces of the earth,With unnamed grasses and perennials, As autumn holds the scenery in it’s embrace,This meadow resembles the spring, With tulips and ladybugs,The air is singing with birds, Animals that were…
By: Josephine Rudolf I know I must face youBut I can’t today, maybe tomorrowIf there is oneI was always pretty sure of the tomorrow partYet you took that from me So if I can’t be sure of a tomorrowAll I…
By: Jim Bates The granite ground sparklesSun beating down releasing scentsGreen lichen, brown grass, and sageDried horse manure, too. Through the polished white poplarsThe river glistens crashing over rocksThunderingMisty droplets drifting. High above a hawk is callingWings spread soaring on…
By: KJ Hannah Greenberg Sapid Not all strong, pleasant tastes are free of sycophantic heritage(Consider how obsequious behaviors often precede elections.)Assess, too, the number of “people’s candidates” engaged inMisanthropic, “private” deeds (until their rivals count ballots). Especially in conurbations, denizens…
By: Wayne F. Burke The Pelvis It was almost always Elvisevery Saturday afternoonat the theater:Elvis as race car driverElvis as cowboyElvis as convictand at least one sceneElvis as tough guythough he did not look toughkind of prissy lookingand like maybe…
By: Barbara Anna Gaiardoni the silence of the stonesfinal coldness* monkfish stewfar-out connections* water heats uppop lights* the casement windowhappy as a lark* chirps in the netmilitary drone* the sea in springchit chat* first ray of sunshinethe last problem
By: Chen Ruizhe Moving house green plants by spring awake, waiting for the rain fine dust clothes.In exchange for the hair Yun Yan Mang, all ready to receive spring clothes. Lift up all thingsWake up by snow waterBroken by vernal…
By: Jim Murdoch Frankie Says Don’t Go There Most days I’m nearer to tears than…No one ever says they’re near to smiles, do they?I expect there must be times when I am,when I feel a grin coming on, perchance a…
By: Sushant Thapa Trapped and welcomedForsaken and giftedTwo boats in one riverWhen one sails?When one sinks?Decisions and chances,Houses that shelterThe blowing blizzard.Is it pain,Is it endurance?Larger-than-life idealWay too expensiveFor a cheap intuition.The rose of youthThe fragrance of gloryThat keeps repeatedly…
By: Annie Albright Pickle I pickled cucumbers that daybut as I was slicing the cucumbers I cut my thumband a drop of blood fell in the pickling liquida drop of salt in saltand I was remindedof the specimens in my…