Whitefish Point

by Carol Farnsworth

a spit of land
waves tumble smooth stones
litter the sand

Ripples in a Pond

by Ahrend Torrey

          A subtle chain of countless rings         
          The next unto the farthest brings…
                  —    Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Nature”
      
A pine nut falls into the dark, still pond—
a ripple-wave appears, then another

ripple-wave appears, then another

ripple-wave appears, then another

ripple-wave appears, then another


pine nut falls into the dark, still pond…

Lines

by Carl Mayfield

coachwhip snakes
    mating in the shade
       of the cedar tree

Summer Morning

by Patricia Hope

Dawn
On Watts Bar Lake
Geese honk
Water laps
Chickadees chatter
Swallows dive
Ducks quack
Mayflies amass
Egrets stand
Fog clears.

Lines

by Padmini Krishnan 

dawn drizzle
a Wood Pigeon’s
new tune

Garden Valley, Idaho, Morning

by Yash Seyedbagheri

Over Warm Springs Road,
sun falls
along with graying shadows
dead Ponderosa pine leans
sky light blue

Lines

by Mark Danowsky

two goldfinches alight
on a blush rose bush
across from the Wawa

The Dog's Growl

by Chris Butler

The human mind is a mile wide
but only six inches deep.
But when hunger growls,
the human mind is the first chew toy.

Blood Moon Near Sacramento

by Kaitlyn Jensesn

blood moon leaks
red in all
directions as
if an empty tavern
bathed in neon
light
on the road
to Winters

Exhale

by Patricia Hope

The jungle inhales
The jungle swells
The jungle prowls
The jungle slithers
The Jungle crawls
The jungle assassinates
The jungle scavenges
The jungle decays
The jungle persists
The jungle exhales.

Lines

by Philip C.  Kolin

cotton fields after
harvesting
a cloudless sky

Katydid

by Michael H. Brownstein

south wind
night falls
trees go to shadows and darkness
and then
a slew of boasting katydids
katy-did-katy-didn’t. katy-did-katy-didn’t.

On the Croton River near St. Augustine’s

by  Kathleen Williamson

Pink moon rises—
starlings in the oak
go silent

Mayfly Time

by Juliet Wilson

heat haze

swallows laze

across the lake
to catch mayfly

for the mayfly
iridescent in the sun
this languid day

is eternity

Summer

by Jeff Burt

Hummingbirds hover
while orange Chinese lanterns quake
spring yet continues

Lines

by Maria DePaul

Nautical twilight
Gulls cry echoes
Waves crest and break

Leopard in Balance

by Juliet Wilson

Amur leopard knows nothing of borders
or memorandums of understanding
and wouldn't recognise the names Putin or Xi.

She just follows herds of deer
through the mountains
stopping when she gets a chance
in a favourite resting place.

She surveys the world
secure in the spots that blur her
into the background.

She chooses solitude
until her cubs arrive
driving her to hang out at deer farms
where the pickings are easier.

Sunset at Bombo

by Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad

The cliffs of Bombo Headland
burn in a fuschia sunset
crags and ridges awash
in a medley
of violet and tangerine

in the depths of the Kiama sea
columns of igneous rock
stamp their ancient weight
as night thickens and settles
mottled with astral glitter -
a sprinkling of meteor showers

on the windswept eastern face
ghost crabs scuttle
abseiling down the basalt
unperturbed by the violence
of the thundering Pacific
lashing at the parapets
of prehistoric caverns.

Lines

by Catherine Saccone

Magnolia warbler
calling loud & bright
through white ash & hickory.

Twilight

by Bonnie Stanard

Behind the jassamine vines
the sun becomes chaffs of light.
Hoots and haws from noisy crows
rout a flock of robins
perched in the turkey oaks.

Blank Look #714

by Carl Mayfield

two ravens determined
juniper berries resistant

sky flashing blue
through the tree

On the Murrambidgee River

by Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad

Through sacred lands
the waters of the Murrambidgee
course in crimson sheets
thousand year old River Red Gums
mirrored in its depths

a wedge of magpie geese
spear through the skies
brown bitterns and freckled ducks
jostle with white-faced herons
wading among schools
of golden perch and bream

the primordial river glides
in a Dreamtime reverie
dusted with ludwigia blooms
and high up in the coolibah trees
the koalas’ eyes follow
the edge of the canoe
foaming lace through water.

Lines

by Carl Mayfield

  both sides
                  of a locked gate--
             cassin's vireo song

Jacaranda Tree, Los Angeles

by Alice Campbell Romano

after last night’s rain
jacaranda nearly bare
bark gray brown
grass a lavender stain

June Evening, Garden Valley, Idaho

by Yash Seyedbagheri

Ponderosa pines rise

in black shadows

cabins through the groves

lights faint and yellow

a moon 96% full, shines luminous 

in a pale blue sky with clouds colored pink and gray

Down Holiday Drive

lavender shadows glow in distant eastern hills

Midnight in Suriname

by Joshua Fagan

The silver lake leaps
Into a spotted frog’s mouth.
Ripples grow and fade.

Cicada

by Mary McCormack

red-eyed cicada
struggles up blades of grass--then flies,
suddenly graceful

Hummingbird

by Carol Casey

bringer of joy
ruby throated
in magenta lupines
wings invisible
now here, now there
now gone.

Lines From North Hutchinson Island

by Andrew Hutto

A bowl of roseate spoonbills stir when the
lagoon wakes shutter the mangrove forest.

Marsh rabbits and stone crabs
hide in sandy burrows.

Nettle

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.

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

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.

Lines

by Christina Chin

billowing red sails
in morning mists
Halong Bay

Scent of Almonds

by Padmini Krishnan

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.

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

'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

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.

Mist

by Saharsh Sateesh

Winter mist
chisels crevices
into Mount Shuksan.

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.

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.

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.

Lines

by John Hawkhead

winter sun
blue notes in a minor key
fresh snow

Outside Pignon Haiti

by Connor Orrico

as dusk settles
in Fontaine hamlet
the Equus bray

Lines

by Anannya Uberoi

an apple tree plunging,
the elm parroting,
a gamble of eggs

Melancholy

by M.J. Iuppa

This country air smells heavy
& strangely thick— green fumes of
cabbage— a whole field never picked, but
left to expose its demise, from a race of blue
caps swimming in an unexpected sea to
so many skulls bearing the grimace of
Pompeii— eyes raise to question
this field’s sour economy.

Seasons With Stone Lizard

by Terrence Sykes

upon my stone wall
lizard flashes rainbow tail
seasons come early

what do you forage
dandelions plucked for lunch
let us share this meal

verdant sunlight fades
clutching of oregano
spring rains bring flowers

willow branches dance
blackbird casts it mournful song
cross the fountain

summer comes too soon
lizard I call you my friend
flashing prism gleam

ginger blossoms soar
into star laden cosmos
dawn finds me hungry

rivers call my name
unspoken punctuation
where is my autumn

chestnut foliage
wild hive laden with honey
hidden in the lairs

where are you lizard
we have not talked as of late
dreams need to be told

mulberry charcoal
warms these freshly plucked peaches
drunk upon plum wine

clouds steeped silent hours
chrysanthemums shine brightly
like a pot of tea

lost in copse & groves
olive tree constellations
tea kettle simmers

stars fall from the sky
winter snow comes too early
fire pit keeps me warm

stone lizard stay warm
hibernate like a phoenix
resurrect come spring

Late April Evening, Garden Valley, Idaho

by Yash Seyedbagheri

At the end of Sunset Drive
where the road curves
pines rise
black shadows
sky a deep velvet
frogs calling
Venus shines
a waxing crescent moon above the trees
it is the last week of April

Green on Grey in Adelaide

by Martha Landman

Rain forced in by Antarctic winds
drenches pepper trees, oaks
and fern.
Lorikeets’ green, yellow and red
defy the sunless grey morning
until skies open to their screeches
and let blue slither through.