Thursday, 30 April 2009

The plump bee sinks
into the yellow cone of petals.
The graves are silent.


Seán Dagan Wood
Seán Dagan Wood

Wednesday, 29 April 2009

Women rushing
to gather drying clothes--
evening dew setting


Ankur Agarwal
The Virtuoso

Tuesday, 28 April 2009

Monday, 27 April 2009

Sunday, 26 April 2009

The sun lifts the mist off bare hedges - Road Closed, Diversion In Place.


Jon Summers

Saturday, 25 April 2009

Talk talk and more talk.
NPR on the radio and her mother
suddenly indistinguishable.


George Moore
George Moore

Friday, 24 April 2009

The lilac’s black buds
have survived the frost
and await their time.


Daffni Percival

Thursday, 23 April 2009

Damson plums in canning jars,
suspended in their deep purple sleep
beneath frozen lakes of paraffin.


Cynthia Cheng

Wednesday, 22 April 2009

How the crocuses
bustle about -

dumpy cafeteria ladies
in blue hairnets


Howie Good
Apocalypse Mambo

Tuesday, 21 April 2009

Lugging the sledge hammer
through thin spring light
whacking the fence posts
the valley gulps the thuds.

a robin hops to the mesh
sits in a frame of wire.


Seán Dagan Wood
Seán Dagan Wood

Monday, 20 April 2009

Sunday, 19 April 2009


The earth sounds hollow
though cherry blossoms float down,
landing in my hair.


Catherine Zickgraf
Catherine Zickgraf

Saturday, 18 April 2009

The silver-grey tom cat
slinks between wrought-iron rails,
like he's
prisoner, free-man,
prisoner, free-man.


Tom Rendell

Friday, 17 April 2009

Thursday, 16 April 2009

after lights out
chattering starlings
squawking & giggling


Tim Nees

Wednesday, 15 April 2009

Tuesday, 14 April 2009

Drifting, the clouds soar
Fresh new spring flowers poke through
Long hopes for no frost


Sweeping pruned debris
My brush disturbs sleepy mice
Fleet footed escape


Caught glimpses of birds
Chattering away in song
I pause and listen


Little jobs now down
All this before breakfast
Toasted bagel waits


Col Ventura
Word Steady

Monday, 13 April 2009

A night artist has impastoed
white hyacinths
on the mountains.

Red-berried rowans
nod, smug.


Gordon Mason
Catapult To Mars

Sunday, 12 April 2009

skittery leaves, coat pockets not warm enough:
hitch-hiking with ghosts


Kelly Shepherd

Saturday, 11 April 2009

(The 11th of April got missed. Insert your own small stone here.)

Friday, 10 April 2009

getting dressed -
discovering a tucked-away nerve,
sparks from navel to tailbone


Isabela Oliveira

Thursday, 9 April 2009


Not much of a host,
But while eating your toast.
They're worth a quick look
out the window.


Malpoet's Weblog

Wednesday, 8 April 2009

Tuesday, 7 April 2009

In the strangely blue pool
Where the river rises:
A rusty perambulator.


Brian Pike

Monday, 6 April 2009

Orphaned tearoses
huddle together in a vase,
await their deaths with dignity


Sandy Hiss

Sunday, 5 April 2009

Poem etched into the skin,
paint by needle shadow black


Cassandra Key
Ophelia Blooming

Friday, 3 April 2009

below the bridge
as though the water's flow were nothing
hold still


Mark Holloway
Beachcombing for the Landlocked

Thursday, 2 April 2009

Rain is the crocheted shawl
slipping from spring’s shoulders.


Marybeth Rua-Larsen

Wednesday, 1 April 2009


You say a voice is just air and vibrations.
I pull my ear close to the radiator
and hear heat.


Aiko Harman
Aiko Writes