Plum Tree Tavern

 by Deborah A. Bennett  to know it is to know your own hand opening, to exhale to be bodiless whether mad with joy or sorrow steeped in vine...

by  C.X. Turner full worm moon plucked from the soil

by Chen-ou Liu algae blooms ... beneath the surface of his anger

by Maria Mathai Ripples of wind Shiver the leaves of a willow tree Rain drops speckle wood

by Ulrike Narwani  scorched hillside fireweed ablaze, ablaze

by Hifsa Ashraf April morning chill  a bamboo partridge’s call rippling the stream 

 

by  I.W.B.S. Sister Lou Ella Hickman an old frog singing  a flash of green startles  winter now is over 

by David Chorlton          The bones roll loosely underneath a coyote’s skin, the spine a tangle with his ribs and every limb a lightness st...

by Ron Scully upper Merrimack the gull out of scent of the Gulf of Maine

by Hifsa Ashraf late winter afternoon  slipping into the dust haze a junglefowl’s crow

by Douglas J. Lanzo Mountain elk graze snow-brushed grass tilted antlered sky

by Michael Riedell    bear creek valley— three old cows corralled in winter rain

by James Kangas bedroom floor shadows of two frigid legs walking in windowed moonlight

by Carl Mayfield footprints leading to the sandstone cistern filling with snow

by Chen-ou Liu job interview winter morning darkness  at the bus stop

by Moray McGowan Indignant pines stare down the woodsman  Shame him, till he hangs his yellow helmet on a branch  And shuffles back to camp ...

 by Douglas J. Lanzo sockeye salmon steely-eyed resolve spawning red, upstream

by Gary Beck When I walk on the beach I see the loneliness of the Florida surfer, who waits and waits for the big wave that never comes.

 by Ingrid Bruck in the woods  the robin's song  cocooning dawn on the shore  a seagull’s silence wrapping sunrise early evening  egrets...

by Maureen Teresa McCarthy   Light shimmers Shadows flare  Ghostly ribbons Beyond my window             Crows                               ...

by Chen-ou Liu shelter entrance under the snow moon shards of glass glinting

 by Ingrid Bruck Cloud Dragon, you wake devils and bring doom. “Rita Hayworth was taped to the bomb that fell on Hiroshima.” Big Boy never a...

by Chris Butler   In metal stealth birds, invisible to radar, sonar and the naked eye, unidentified flying objects traveling at supersonic s...

by Royal Rhodes at first light on top of the snowbank a black feather

by Sarah das Gupta silver birch bends wren hops over deep drifts

by Mona Bedi calm sea-- a cormorant lazily dries its wings

by Meg Freer   The usual dawn praise of life dances at the horizon above the valley. A saline seep flows down the hillside into the brine sp...

 

by Bri Bruce cows out to pasture dawn frost

by Farah Ali broken ice floating downriver… letting go

by C.X. Turner the slow slide across a frozen river blues guitar

by Bruce Morton It is in winter they are most Striking, white as the snow  Set against the black water Which will not freeze over. Everythin...

by Ram Chandran from morning following me everywhere- this cuckoo's song a cuckoo's song answering  a distant cuckoo's song bany...

by Joshua St. Claire trash trucks the clutter clatter of capitalism

by Douglas J. Lanzo pressed black tea tannins of peat stain sea bay

by Nancy Scott McBride busy intersection- sitting by the side of the road LAZY BOY lounge chair

by Chen-ou Liu clean coal billboard ... a fork-tongued thought  darkens the night

by Kevin Maus 1. There is no burn-out, only banquet. 2. Peace of mind is of horizon; waking and setting suns play upon this plain. We fulfil...

by Morouje Sherif Davids’ in Providence, smothered in maple leaves. Soaking in the rusted moonlight, probably eating an In-N-Out double chee...

by John Grey December twilight stand of naked chestnut oaks erased by darkness

by Phil Huffy the old orchard few apples many memories

by Chen-ou Liu late night walk home ... the distance between me and a stray

by Marisa Frasca The Belt of Venus generously lifts above the horizon just before sunrise, the sky awash in pearlescent-pink luster at the b...

by Dan Leach there are men i hate with the whole dark country of my heart men like wolves for whom kindness smells like blood men with souls...

by Susan Vespoli not grief, not the gut clench that startles,  shows up first in the solar plexus,  then spreads to the heart and lungs to s...

by David Chorlton   Next week the men will come to mend the sky. Early one morning they will pull up in their trucks and climb on ladders to...

by Douglas J. Lanzo blood moon illumined slice of sandstone peak

by A. J. Anwar country road a rare cochoa lands gently and disappears