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hangs in the air

trill of

the Whippoorwill 


Erin Castaldi



so tiny

beneath the silent pine—

mouse bones


Laurie D. Morrissey



March frost—

the cement truck wends down the mountain road,

its drum revolving


Wally Swist




filling and emptying



Adjei Agyei-Baah



a hawk shadow lizards into the scrub


Chuck Brickley



spike in death toll

the iris

an inch higher


Máire Morrissey-Cummins



winter not-quite-morning

the tip of a Highland stoat’s tail





curtains half closed

before I glimpse

the half moon


Faye Brinsmead



winter wind

all the different shapes

of my bones


John Hawkhead



the scorched

riverbed winding

into dusk


Joanna Ashwell



through the cracked window

                      a chirp

                                of sunlight


Kelly Sauvage Angel



warbler trills

the near-steady steps

of a piebald fawn


Bill Cooper



closing the blinds

each one spills

a moon


Chuck Brickley



another day breaks 

around his promise...

war prayers


Shreya Narang



staring at me


the fly


Roberta Beach Jacobson



maize harvest

a combine uncovers

the distance


Michael Baeyens



deep violet

the wood mallard’s 

gentle whicker


Erin Castaldi



sunlight in branches
higher than I climbed
schoolyard oak


Gavin Austin



still water...

the hook lands near

a swan feather


Brad Bennett



chemo hair
just barely
autumn moon


Guliz Mutlu



finding them by touch

under the paisley couch . . .

newborn kittens


Michael Dylan Welch



dune grass breeze

the egg-laden leatherback

shoveling         shoveling 


Bill Cooper



robin on a snowy branch

bitter wind

becomes a song


Andrew Albritton



full moon

I’ve never been

the only one


John Stevenson



spring thaw

a slump

in the last hay bail


Bryan Rickert



dreaming of birdsong I awake into


Roberta Fargo



April gust

a puddle trying to stay

a puddle


Chuck Brickley



summer afternoon...

cattle egrets rest

in the bull's shadow


K. Ramesh



moonless night –

the window of a moving train

cuts a dense mist


Goran Gatalica



waning sun
a splashing robin
empties the birdbath


Alan S. Bridges



more silence than sound     church bells


Ben Gaa



late spring

the unknown bird’s song

familiar now


Bob Lucky




we tuck a note inside

the riven oak


Debbie Strange



dawn moon

steam from the kettle

mists the window


Lorraine Haig



That off-beat waddle.

The toddler discovers she

can make seagulls fly.


Nick Ling



echoing through spring snow . . .

calls of bulls and cows

rutting in the meadow


Wally Swist



aging headstones
their tilt
toward eternity


Warren Gossett



summer rain . . .

a grey fishing boat cuts

straight through it


Kanchan Chatterjee



visiting hours over

             flies gather

in a window corner


LeRoy Gorman



wheeling gull

behind the plough...

distant thunder


Clive Bennett



a small spider

sips my blood

in a mosquito


David Käwika Eyre



crimson evening —

the first kick

of the baby


Rachel Rabo Magaji



another gospel song

streams on the laptop—

the deepening night


Lenard D. Moore



stubble field

sunset purples

the poplars


Robert Witmer



old stone wall

a lizard's

sudden defiance


Jay Friedenberg




a veneer of ice

melts into sparrow song


Roberta Fargo



winter chill

the roasted chestnut stand

closed for the night


Bob Lucky



After the night’s storm

footprints make a home for the

jittery tadpoles


Darlene O'Dell



the scent of cedar

on a rusting chisel—

waning moon


Michael Dylan Welch



green mile folded back inside my cell


Helen Buckingham



harvest rain

crossing the mountain

in a farmer’s eyes





the pull

of a downstream current

hunter’s moon


Rashmi VeSa



predawn darkness
a distant train whistle
takes me home


Chen-ou Liu



whistling on my walk
a spinebill deep in the throat
of the flowering quince


Marietta McGregor



time-worn hills
a skein of swallows
gathers the dusk


Gavin Austin



wrack line

the taste of salt

in her hair


Jeff Hoagland



planes grounded
a seagull circles
the control tower


Lorraine Haig




the rudbeckia grows

in half-a-mattress


Vicki Miko



sparkling at dawn
the hundred minarets
of a young dogwood


Ryland Shengzhi Li



new tarp

over the old tarp

winter rain


Rich Schilling



harmattan morning... 

the road side vendor

mixing her flour


Rachel Rabo Magaji



spring rain
the early lilacs
dripping with fragrance


Gary Hittmeyer



blue lake

I shiver before

touching it


Meik Blöttenberger



breaking waves. . .
the sun
reshaping itself


Dejan Pavlinović



a sparrow's chirp
becomes yellow


Réka Nyitrai



a hare emerges

from the hedge – briefly

we walk the same path


Jenni Wyn Hyatt



Our toes touch
the sound
of swirling leaves


Yvette Nicole Kolodji



just when

I decide to leave

white lilacs


Máire Morrissey-Cummins



spring flower show

closed due to covid-19 . . . 

orchids pressed against glass


Wally Swist



noticing me
just for an instant


William Scott Galasso



vernal equinox

I thrust my hands

deeper into my pockets


Roger Watson



peaceful rally
sparrows stitch the sky
puddle to puddle


Elisa Theriana




in the courtyard, ear

inside out


Owen Bullock




an argument mid-way

pumpkin seeds


Rashmi VeSa



soap bubbles...

our childhood memories 

bursting into nothingness 


Jibril Dauda Muhammad 



a trough


April showers


Chad Goodman



brittle crackle
of a long-shed snakeskin 

late summer heat


Marietta McGregor



the world at halt
only the wind
moves the sounds


Dejan Pavlinović



glassy lake – 

I put the skipping stone

back on the ground


Dan Salontai



silver edged
at each leaf the dusk
becoming the dark


Kristen Lang



Spring rains.
A river running still
beneath the flood.


Cyril Ioutsen


nightfall . . .
I keep the curtain open
for the moon


Manoj Sharma



crowded side walk

behind every face

another face


Sina Sanjari



daybreak –

the fading echoes of 

a seaside bonfire


Antonietta Losito



spring flush
all around the muck spreader
dung flies


David J Kelly



her words in the fencerow blackberries darken


our thomas



a dry leaf edge over edge

                the same regret


Roberta Fargo



petrichor –

the laterite wall comes alive

with fern fronds


Vidya S Venkatramani




the tide swallows

our story


dl mattila



after harvest

stalks chittering

in the wind


Marilyn Humbert



a fly lands

on the hour glass

the shifting storm


Carrie Ann Thunell



spring breeze …
an elm tree flies out
to the birds


Ashish Narain



cold autumn rain

cowherd warms his bare feet 

in the cow piss


Milorad [the son of  Nada née Tesla] Ivanković



cuckoo's call

ripening mangoes

one by one


Rajeshwari Srinivasan




our native home...

flying ants


Kinshuk Gupta



still water

reflecting in silence

the fish and me


Mona Iordan 



all the fun of the fair shut up


Sheila K. Barksdale



litter of light

across dawn's darkening

herring gull's song


Michael H. Brownstein



lost ball—

tiptoeing by

the tomatoes


Elaine Wilburt



summer solstice –

a dream goes on

cleaning green beans


Carmela Marino




the long stretch

of night ahead


Laurie Greer



the herdsman's hat
on a muezzin's head . . .
blazing sun


Oluwasegun O. Adesina



raven’s cry

an abandoned village

on the river bank


Eufemia Griffo



fork in the path
the bunny and I
choose the clover one


Marilyn Ashbaugh




slowly the light changes

with his song


Maureen Edden



empty fields

a praying mantis

hops on dried grasses


Tolulope Ogedengbe



brief rain

just enough

to smell it


Lisa Espenmiller



bobbing in the long

wild native grasses, a

wary red-faced pheasant


Gonzalo Adolfo



old house...

still that bit of ivy

clings on


Praniti Gulyani




the passage of clouds

always blue 


Daniela Misso



a pen dipped in hush –

the tiny frog skips upon

a waterlily


Adrian Bouter



lighthouse inshore

my grandma calls me by 

her sister's name


Judit Hollos



still noon –

the plop of an overripe mango

on the pavement


Vidya S Venkatramani



evening walk

a dust cloud thickens

into sheep


Joanne van Helvoort



field of daffodils

the anonymity

of belonging


Jackie Chou



on a branch

amongst ash leaves

a sparrow’s quiet moment


Thomas Powell




crossing the creek

with shoes in my hand


John J. Han



scent of summer rain coming up from the pond reeds a green tree frog


Mark Miller



studying the syntax
of a firefly's blinks…
starless night


Srinivas S



the virus takes

the neighbour's child away

my sorrows grow small


Pitt Büerken 



after all this time

your rose bush that never bloomed



Susan Rogers



florida sun

the iguanas take shade

beneath traffic barriers


Daniela Mejía



a thump
as the cat leaves the bed
the cold begins


Jeanne Cook



Hot spring afternoon.

The melojo's downy leaves

have made me drowsy.


Glenn Hubbard



A yellow butterfly
sits on the red hibiscus
embroidered on my T-shirt.


Tonmoi Das Kashyap



stacked pineapples

the silence 

between the lines


Mamta Madhavan



empty streets

the loss of touch

touches us all.


Mike Moule



falling    my eye catches      a floating blossom


Shari Abramson



flooded river:

the entire village

rushes past.


Rimi Nath




grandma's hands hold

jasmine scent


mallika chari



almost dusk
a crow flaps down
from the maples


Carol Raisfeld



mountain river

the shimmer of wind

as it passes


Lyn Reeves



the long conversation

with my teddy bear

quarantine rain


Gabriel Awuah Mainoo



moonless sky…

the flickering flame

of diya


Kakul Gupta



a visit home

my old red couch

now a guest bed


Tom Staudt



summer rain...
his voice
so far away


Rosa Maria Di Salvatore



cracked headland

the slight tremor

of her hand


Mark Gilbert



fresh mown grass…
I touch the summer
one last time


sanjuktaa asopa



emptying my shadow a flock of birds


Rajandeep Garg



in the desert sun

a landscape of emptiness

inside an hourglass


Alvin B. Cruz



wildflower meadow

with every footstep —



Tomislav Sjekloća



hammock in the shade
I try to welcome
the ant on my leg


Oscar Luparia



fallen jacaranda
a mother pea hen
leaves her nest


Deborah P Kolodji



thunderhead. . .

one last gape at

my sandcastle


Shomade Abdulazeez



storm Hector

unaware, the water snail

out of its depth


David Gale



hedge vines

years later the lost ball

gone wild


Terrie Jacks



sudden sunlight

in the bluest of things:

dew on a wild iris


Maureen Jivani



coming back home
the country road absorbs
the summer rain


Ezio Infantino



another reason

to be grateful

full moon


Shir Haberman


oystercatcher one last peck at the closed mussel


Bill Cooper


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