|
|
|
winter moon
the silver
of returning smelts
Jacquie Pearce |
the moment I know
I've gone too far
freezing drizzle
Ignatius Fay |
|
town hall meeting
I sit my sarcasm
in the back row
Sandi Pray |
day-moon
she decides
to hyphenate
Jennifer Hambrick |
|
|
midnight thunder
I inch closer
to his snore
Ferris Gilli |
the doorbell rings
all the ways we are
not home
Valorie Broadhurst Woerdehoff |
|
|
what to do
with the thyme that's left—
herb garden
Terri L. French |
our lived experience in the bins on the curb
George Swede |
|
pen pal letter
back when we were
mean girls
Kerry J. Heckman |
column of ants
no one here goes
by that name
Cherie Hunter Day |
|
|
blue hyacinth
the granddaughters discover
my wildflower guide
Reneé Owen |
campfire smoke
drifting back
to once
Scott Mason |
|
|
twilight
i turn the plum
before taking a bite
Joyce Clement |
hands too shaky
to hold her granddaughter—
field stubble
P M F Johnson |
|
|
autumn leaves
the sound a deer
doesn't make
Bryan Rickert |
canyon bottom
none of my daydreams
work here
Agnes Eva Savich |
|
|
|