Saturday, 28 February 2009

lengthening days
the blackbird's song
a few notes longer


Matt Morden
Morden Haiku

Friday, 27 February 2009

wedge of geese
honk-a-lonk above -
the newborn shivers


Corey Cook
Corey Cook

Thursday, 26 February 2009

Wednesday, 25 February 2009

Tuesday, 24 February 2009

red fell from
the rabbit's ear

staining the linoleum
no other sign

of death;
black eyes still

like a marbled bushfire


Ainslee Meredith
Never, Esther

Monday, 23 February 2009

Sunday, 22 February 2009

You have told me so much in anger,
I can't remember the rest.


Stephen Jarrell Williams

Saturday, 21 February 2009

A triangular scruff of woodland squeezed between railway lines coming into Raynes Park station. A deep green cleft of tangled trees, over-enthusiastic bushes, broken branches and rubbish.


Matthew Friday
Matthew Friday

Friday, 20 February 2009

prairie sunset
a rabbit blazes
wheat-covered trails


Shirla White
Shirla White

Thursday, 19 February 2009

The freckles behind your necklace
Make me glad you wore that dress.


Col Ventura
Word Steady

Wednesday, 18 February 2009

The kestrel is out again—
doves hide, silent, in the still grass.


James Brush
Coyote Mercury

Tuesday, 17 February 2009

across the quiet pond,
a deer wanders down to drink-
the crackling of ice


sandra lawrence
four winds haiga

Monday, 16 February 2009

A dragon on the underside
of my brother's arm;

its black tongue tickles
the blue veins of his wrist.


Gareth Trew
Gareth Trew

Sunday, 15 February 2009

To waken to the sound of the sea is to turn a corner; to understand the way a gull hurls abuse at a summer morning, a scatological summary of a flawed world.


Wendy Klein
Wendy Klein

Saturday, 14 February 2009

Next Warm Meal

We crumble crackers in our soup
the way we drop change
in a beggar's empty Pepsi cup.


William Soule
William Soule

Friday, 13 February 2009

Thursday, 12 February 2009

in a quiet room, filled with deep thoughts,
don't eat the crunchy food with your mouth open


Liza Lee Miller
It's Just Me

Wednesday, 11 February 2009

smells like
snow, we
spend it
instead of


amanda oaks
verve bath press

Tuesday, 10 February 2009

A needle glinting on the marble floor
Or one of your silver hairs?


Gabrielle Daly

Monday, 9 February 2009

Winter weeds standing tall in white
blanched of living color
seeds sleeping


Taomaster Frank
My Spirit Journeys

Sunday, 8 February 2009

Saturday, 7 February 2009

Snow Field

The sheep in next door's field
disconsolate at the sudden
disappearance of their grass.


Caroline M Davies
Advancing Poetry

Friday, 6 February 2009

He’s grumpy because he’s mislaid his instruction book. I’m grumpy because I’ve mislaid my life.


Writing Home

Thursday, 5 February 2009

The floor feels cold - my back is sore, but I sleep peacefully, because the bedsheets smell like you, and the bedroom tiles are the same color as your skin.


Sergio S. Martínez
Sergio S. Martínez

Wednesday, 4 February 2009

Whirling birds dart across the sky like bright waterbugs on a lake. I hear the whap-whap-whap of engines while lying in bed at 5 a.m. and imagine their single bright light, those mechanical stars, moving through morning.


Elizabeth Westmark
Switched At Birth

Tuesday, 3 February 2009

Monday, 2 February 2009

Sunday, 1 February 2009

fish-filch, wing-whirr,
beak-bright bustle to burrow –
That’s All Folks


Susan Richardson
Susan's Journal of Literary Things