by Sarah-Jane Crowson
The hollow road’s all snarled with thorns,
fringed with stinging plants, the path
lost in hundred-eyed branches, where roots
are claws, knitting floors of speedwell, bluebell,
stitchwort, nettle, wren, dock, buttercup,
vipers bugloss, thrush, goosegrass, dock
nettle, dock, nettle.
Sunday, June 28, 2020
Rose-breasted Grosbeak
by Diane Sahms
As if every sound has its own shape, purpose.
His song, distilled. His black-hooded head
& brilliant semi-circle of red, with a leaky
valve extending down the middle of a white breast
& satin black wings with patches of white highlights
& this sacred space—his rambling song & sharp
rhythmic tweets—then in silence—there’s
emptiness—to enter, to become that silence,
ever changed
As if every sound has its own shape, purpose.
His song, distilled. His black-hooded head
& brilliant semi-circle of red, with a leaky
valve extending down the middle of a white breast
& satin black wings with patches of white highlights
& this sacred space—his rambling song & sharp
rhythmic tweets—then in silence—there’s
emptiness—to enter, to become that silence,
ever changed
crow
by Trishita Das
crow blots itself into the skin of the sky,
crow pulls the smell of rot from corpses,
crow cackles into the night's blackness.
crow blots itself into the skin of the sky,
crow pulls the smell of rot from corpses,
crow cackles into the night's blackness.
Wednesday, June 24, 2020
Sunday, June 21, 2020
Scent of Almonds
by Padmini Krishnan
The spring moon melts
into a tree yellow butterfly
on the almond bush
The spring moon melts
into a tree yellow butterfly
on the almond bush
Summer Savory
by Sarah-Jane Crowson
Summer Savory, lemon-spiced,
softer than Rosemary. Dark green
leaf-spears glow with oil.
Mercury claims dominion over this herb.
After Rain Herbs
by Ann Boaden
After rain herbs smell of themselves.
Cleared and crystalized with wet, they
skein away green down a summer roadside:
heft and sheen
of honey; quick red
of pepper; blue clean
langor of lavender.
Bruised
to balm.
After rain herbs smell of themselves.
Cleared and crystalized with wet, they
skein away green down a summer roadside:
heft and sheen
of honey; quick red
of pepper; blue clean
langor of lavender.
Bruised
to balm.
Wednesday, June 17, 2020
Tsuchiyama - 50th station of the Tokaido Road by Utagawa Hiroshige
(Kyoka version)
by James Bell
a violent rainstorm beats down
on four travellers who hasten
along their path in a defile
between the hills - the roofs
of the village can be glimpsed
further down - in the distance
profiles of summits - blue
mountains that spare the houses
from the storm soon to abate when
the mountains change to a brighter shade
a violent rainstorm beats down
on four travellers who hasten
along their path in a defile
between the hills - the roofs
of the village can be glimpsed
further down - in the distance
profiles of summits - blue
mountains that spare the houses
from the storm soon to abate when
the mountains change to a brighter shade
Sunday, June 14, 2020
'after summer rain'
by I.W.B.S. Sister Lou Ella Hickman
after summer rain
leaves in wind
rustle like chimes
in an old forest
after summer rain
leaves in wind
rustle like chimes
in an old forest
Spring Morning
by Feston Altus
When the rain ends
Green buds speckle
The black spring oak
Two damp whitetail deer
step across a frostless stream.
When the rain ends
Green buds speckle
The black spring oak
Two damp whitetail deer
step across a frostless stream.
Wednesday, June 10, 2020
Overjoy
by Randall Rogers
Tickle my fancy
deadly asp
for I enjoy
life knowing
I'm gonna die (death);
wisdom flees
from a surfeit
of security.
Hold your breath
until you turn
blue.
Tickle my fancy
deadly asp
for I enjoy
life knowing
I'm gonna die (death);
wisdom flees
from a surfeit
of security.
Hold your breath
until you turn
blue.
Sunday, June 7, 2020
Sapir Whorf
by Ian McFarland
I can see the world,
just as clearly as
I am able to
describe it.
Balanos adds
another shade of
meaning.
Marsh, fen, grove,
left to wonder
at the placement
of his oaks,
bunkered on the rise
among the wild grasses
by the river,
spry the wooded clearing.
Aha!
This will take some time.
I can see the world,
just as clearly as
I am able to
describe it.
Balanos adds
another shade of
meaning.
Marsh, fen, grove,
left to wonder
at the placement
of his oaks,
bunkered on the rise
among the wild grasses
by the river,
spry the wooded clearing.
Aha!
This will take some time.
Wednesday, June 3, 2020
A Florida Swamp
by John Grey
A solitary egret rides in
on a floating island.
Mangrove twine
sips brackish water.
Snake slithers through the tangle,
upends a log
of painted turtles.
Now and then,
fish pop the surface
Swamp, sleeping water.
A frog’s throat drums.
A solitary egret rides in
on a floating island.
Mangrove twine
sips brackish water.
Snake slithers through the tangle,
upends a log
of painted turtles.
Now and then,
fish pop the surface
Swamp, sleeping water.
A frog’s throat drums.
