Issue 65

Margaret Tau

wet tea leaves settle
point to a new direction
barefoot little girl

Daymond Roman

From way up high, where
people are like ants, I see
the depth of God's Love

Jeral Williams

Golden Aspen leaves
Shimmer round the white-bark tree
Doe eyes turn and stare.

Shellie Austin

Swollen russet heads
nod sun-stained petals to earth
in summer's last sigh

Dennis Maulsby

Moisture dribbles down
fogged coffee shop window panes.
Snow quilts hide pickups.

Richard Fleck

An Icelandic horse
sprints straight, with no gait, across
the frozen tundra.

Rachel Zempel

pale violet blooms
intoxicating fragrance
thriving lilac bush

Sally Elesby

white water plunges
down black rocks, black rocks, black rocks
waterfall music

Bill Melton

through lowering clouds
the nickled light of morning
tentatively peers

K.L. Temple

Drive-thru daffodils
fifteen yellow trumpets play
McDonald's breakfast

Mari Flower

Son climbing boulder
Taller than your little self
Leap into a cloud

John C. Mannone

sun spills burgundy
sea drunk on late summer light
waves stumble on rocks

Ann Thornfield-Long

breezes bring poems
riding stallion latitudes
galloping rhythms

Linda Imbler

Bent wooden body
Nylon strings reverberate
Elegant sounds birthed

Sara Wilhoite-Mathews

A dandelion,
middle finger in the air,
rebels in silence.

Chris Cross

the last leaves of fall
selflessly fall giving way
to winter brethren

Valerie Staton

above the waters,
over deciduous trees,
covenant rainbow

Ave Jeanne Ventresca

cracked August soil--
towards my watering can
raindrops tumble slow

Anne Larbes DeLorean

campfire sparks, rising
with the sound of the crickets
she moves her hips, sways

Maria DePaul

Leaves swept into piles
Toddlers jump in to toss them
Happily scattered

Michael Abreu

Tulips sprout and bloom
Bear slumbering peacefully
Grass breaks through hard ice

LS. Quigley

Skin soft, lines set deep,
I watch you wither with age.
Together, we dim.

Duane Anderson

From a wire fence
a rabbit slips underneath,
the garden thief rides.

Jackie Maugh Robinson

kernels of sleet fall
on the cobblestone pavement
winter not quite yet

Suzanne Cottrell

fallen mockingbird
lifeless upon the cold ground
December victim

Jenn Ryan-Jauregui

Our feet scurry past
Behind closed door, a stillness
Empty nursery

Susi Bocks

bumbling on flowers
extracting precious nectar
bees feeding freely

Alvin Johnson

It's immutable-
the darkness before the storm,
then the lightening.

Tim Mueller

caught yourself stumbling
I saw your shadow dance, love
with wild angel wings

Patricia Rossi

midnight serenade
velvet sky donned in diamonds
waltzing silouettes

Dean Miller

perception tainted
rainbows dangle upside down
colors destitute

Beth Mathison

black skeleton trees
winter bones against the snow
frantic geese fly south

Thomas Festa

Rotten timber deck
sparrow's nest under rafters
all we wait for comes

Arona Fay Roshal

Window candles glow
Lighthouse beams guide sailing ships
Moon plays with the stars

Jennifer Rood

house finch, tinged with red
streaks quickly to higher limbs
escaping my gaze

Jr Vork

geese fly overhead
at the cabin dusk settles
a silent river

Richard Bluhm

butterfly flutters
life's quiet tranquil moments
a breath of fresh air

Patricia Pella

earth bows to the sun
prelude to a masterpiece
spring fills its palette

John Lawrence Darretta

saffroned winter sun
caught amid the leafless trees
sky of frosting clouds

Ann Richards

Twisted are my thoughts
Like branches from the forest
Yet budding with hope

Kathryn Lea Temple

the harvest moon shines
solitary traveler
stops to rest awhile

Bruce Feingold

autumn equinox
a seven point buck wanders
through the neighborhood

Laura Steidl

yellow sunflowers
paradise to many birds
turn to face the sun

Teresa Stankiewicz

the lake is glass calm
shimmering in the moment
I am at peace, love

Rachel Dupree

The chirping of birds
heard in a forest of books
calms a troubled soul

Debra Kirouac

Laughter fills the air
As children run through tall grass
Small hands graze the blades

Joan Fingon

the snail slips slowly
over a green garden hose
carrying its home

Michael Babcock

a flock of starlings,
just so, like flecks of pepper
sprinkled on the moon

Sandra Barnett

baseball on TV
sound of bats making contact
under clear blue skies

Gail Greenwood

I severed the head,
left the leaning, withered stalk:
sunflower harvest.