Saturday, 31 December 2011

Winter Breakfast

The last spoonful
of sunlight hits
the leaf covered lawn.

*

Christian Ward

Friday, 30 December 2011

rusted gurney whispers towards infant incubator
“never really knew anyone the whole damn trip”
and incubator says,
"but love anyway, right?”

*

Steve Myers
Broken Bats

Thursday, 29 December 2011

Spider web

Pinks and purples shimmer along thin threads.
A lifeless fly bobs up and down.

*

Kylie Dinning
Pausing to pick up small stones

Wednesday, 28 December 2011

Dried fruit in glass cups
a tea-pot by a nut pie,
autumnal picnic

*

Claudia Messelodi

Tuesday, 27 December 2011

Monuments

‘The problem with this country,’
                                    he said
‘Is we haven't any pyramids.’

*

Jody Porter

Monday, 26 December 2011

Winter wraps this land loosely
With an icicle fringed lacy, lethal shawl
Disguised as snow drifted friendliness

*

S. E. Ingraham

Saturday, 24 December 2011

Christmas stocking
a boy pretends
he hasn't caught Santa

*

Christine L. Villa
Blossom Rain

Friday, 23 December 2011

when the door rattles
she hides under the bed sheets,
hearing the wind laugh.

*

Debbi Antebi

Thursday, 22 December 2011

The same rain on my window
as on the wrinkled
face of the man
under the bridge at night.

*

Samantha Duncan

Wednesday, 21 December 2011

Bright neon flashes unknown messages. The undulating crowd fills the
night. On the second floor a fat man in a vest opens his curtains and
stretches, yawning.

*

Bob Hale
The Hitting The Road Again Blues

Tuesday, 20 December 2011

Found clinging to a branch of my Christmas tree: a small, bewildered frog.

*

Kelly Eastlund
Stars and Willows

Monday, 19 December 2011

rain falls quietly
onto mint leaves -
they shiver together.

*

Mark Sargeant
Light shines in my window

Sunday, 18 December 2011

SWEETTALK

Hold your hammer, honey, your board, your wood hauled from the lot for Harry Woodman’s saw. Back from the field, honey, and look what I’ve got! Smell my fingers, honey, and look at my full bowl! That tickles licking my fingers, honey, ain’t this some great luck? Pine. Fruit. Fine pickin’s, don’t you think, honey?

*

Patricia Ranzoni

Saturday, 17 December 2011

In the meeting

markets
prices
coffee.
above our heads on the lime green wall
a sticky-footed gecko undulates across

*

Kuvalaya
Petals on the Wind

Friday, 16 December 2011

Thursday, 15 December 2011

The strand of her hair
was coiled stark red in the dawn's
new bar of white soap.

*

Guy Duperreault
egajd

Wednesday, 14 December 2011

a pinprick
of a man,
buffing up
the silvery hat
of a sail-less
windmill

*

Annie Rapstoff
31momentsintime

Tuesday, 13 December 2011

Drops of sweat

Drops of sweat, leaning into the garden work
imprint themselves for just a moment
on the stones

*

David Fraser

Monday, 12 December 2011

Everyone in the crowd sang the lyrics in synchronisation as rain drizzled on our upturned faces.

*

Ruth Stacey
mermaids drown

Sunday, 11 December 2011

The dragonfly trapped in the garage smacks repeatedly into the window covered with privacy film, insistent on following the false light even though the garage door is open wide to the world.

*

jeannine peregrine
four rooms

Saturday, 10 December 2011

at the beach two old men,
their stiff-legged dogs

feigning exercise.

*

Molly Guy

Friday, 9 December 2011

black top hat

oddly out of place in broad daylight
makes the day seem an occasion to celebrate

*

lara simmon

Thursday, 8 December 2011

Plump raindrops
Leave spots behind
On clean windows

*

Lori Lipsky

Wednesday, 7 December 2011

Tuesday, 6 December 2011

Two weeks of each year
these hills burn

into cherry blossom
fiestas--memory turns
into ritualized
pyro-practice

*

Lee Sittler

Monday, 5 December 2011

whirling from chimneys—
bats and evening swallows
join eager supper crowd

*

Melinda Tennison

Sunday, 4 December 2011

209

The soft nap grass brushed by blasts of sun

                 in June.

*

Jody Porter

Saturday, 3 December 2011

bouquet of flowers
the name on the card
not mine

*

Christine L. Villa
Blossom Rain

Friday, 2 December 2011

Three teenage girls strike poses in the rain: photographing each
other. The curlicue roofs of Yangshou form their glamour shoot
backdrop.

*

Bob Hale
The Hitting The Road Again Blues

Thursday, 1 December 2011

Red-eyed night reading
forgettable prose alone
on a plane from Rome.

*

Guy Duperreault
egajd

Wednesday, 30 November 2011

Seven copper leaves remain on the tree—little flags of defiance.

*

Kelly Eastlund
Stars and Willows

Tuesday, 29 November 2011

the bloom of orange lillies
has begun to fade,
their scent washed away by the wind.
suddenly my hands look like
they belong to someone older.

*

Mark Sargeant
Light shines in my window

Monday, 28 November 2011

basking in the glow
of a near twilight sky -
bright orange clouds

*

gillena cox
Lunch Break

Sunday, 27 November 2011

Fallen apricots
beek beneath his boyish dreams –
reading Twain in tree.

*

Dan Simmons

Saturday, 26 November 2011

On the shelves at Trader Joe's
the bottles of Pinot Grigio

glow

pale green light
distilled from stars.

*

jeannine peregrine
four rooms

Friday, 25 November 2011

The moon confides in the water,
leaving an echo on its surface

*

Annie Rapstoff
31momentsintime

Thursday, 24 November 2011

the day after chemo
he reads by the light
of his cellphone

*

Kirsten Cliff
Swimming in Lines of Haiku

Wednesday, 23 November 2011

My driveway, repaved in bright red and gold. Another maple leaf drifts down.

*

Chris Galvin

Tuesday, 22 November 2011

Cool, September morn,
gas logs needed
to knock off the chill.
Wasteful, my dad whispers, from the great beyond.
I light them anyway.

*

Candyce Carden-Deal

Monday, 21 November 2011

You point out the moon is full and I know tonight we will make electric love in the white light.

*

Ruth Stacey
mermaids drown

Sunday, 20 November 2011

On the lawn some grackles are milling
mobbing and strutting flaunting their tails
like soiled shiny suspect flags.

*

Gregory Luce
Enchilada's Salon

Saturday, 19 November 2011

In the headlights, wet pavement unfurls—the black tongue of winter.

*

Kelly Eastlund
Stars and Willows

Friday, 18 November 2011

hills lined with slack telephone lines
too heavy for conversations
had given up talk to cicadas
that buzzed with August heat.

*

Sheri L. Wright
Scribblings And Such

Thursday, 17 November 2011

The regular, rolling rhythm of chopping carrots bio-dynamically; creating many-faceted shapes.

*

Freya Pickard
Dragonscale Clippings

Wednesday, 16 November 2011

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

between work and home
the only dog that doesn't bark as I walk by
has the saddest eyes

*

Kuvalaya
Petals on the Wind

Sunday, 13 November 2011

A pillow of gold and orange catches a child's dive; leaves and laughter
flutter up towards the sky.

*

Susan May James
Scribble & Scatter

Saturday, 12 November 2011

Hot Maples

Shocking red and gold can-can
under the noses
of two grumpy junipers

*

Lorna Cahall

Friday, 11 November 2011

A Snail on Easter Road

Like the gentle progress
of an oceanliner across the Atlantic.

A patient God in the rain;
oblivious to the business shoes.

The smallest most slow of comets
glittering a trail across wet night pavement.

*

Colin McGuire

Thursday, 10 November 2011

at the door
with muddy gumboots
he offers me his love &
a freshly pulled carrot

*

Kirsten Cliff
Swimming in Lines of Haiku

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

a red admiral butterfly warms itself on a scrap of binliner in a field. somewhere nearby, a blackbird is stuck on red alert, his monotonous clang-clang streaming through the hedgerow.

*

Mark Sargeant
Light shines in my window

Monday, 7 November 2011

august heat...

august heat simmers
sleepy sun sets
yellow orange skies

*

Melanie Bishop

Sunday, 6 November 2011

The rays of light that fall between the branches of the trees cast unique shapes and forms onto the trodden footpath in the woods, granting each patch of earth a spotlight and its very own moment of glory.

*

Bev Carr

Saturday, 5 November 2011

warm billowing clouds
give way to a few minutes
of scintillating light

*

Annie Rapstoff
31momentsintime

Friday, 4 November 2011

while the others floated to the ground on the easy white parachutes of their blossoms
this last magnolia hangs on, creamy petals turning to toast,
willing to open itself to the sun
and burn

*

jeannine peregrine
four rooms

Thursday, 3 November 2011

while drinking coffee
the sun breaks through
bleak, bleak November

*

Johannes S. H. Bjerg
scented dust

Wednesday, 2 November 2011

He spoke of his childhood as if riding a bike with no training wheels.

*

Courtney Ray

Tuesday, 1 November 2011

purple meadow grasses bend
tickle passing winds
delay the birthing storms

*

Niall OConnor
Dublinepost

Monday, 31 October 2011

While anxieties and thoughts
Tumble and twist like acrobats
The brown bird on my balcony
Sits waiting

*

mr oCean
The Electric oCean

Sunday, 30 October 2011

AUTUMN’S KINGDOM

A flock
of blackbirds
beat about
in a gale.
Trees
splinter.
Everywhere,
the empty
eyeholes
of a skull
watch us
closely.

*

Howie Good
Apocalypse Mambo

Saturday, 29 October 2011

Friday, 28 October 2011

Thursday, 27 October 2011

New baby sleeping on my chest
wrapped like a burrito
in a blanket of pink and green circles

*

Candyce Carden-Deal

Wednesday, 26 October 2011

The small boy tells me he wants to be a cat when he grows up. We miaow at each other for the next hour.

*

Ruth Stacey
mermaids drown

Tuesday, 25 October 2011

Map: from heart to head only one straight route
but hundreds of leaf-darkened dirt roads and
underground passageways dripping and slippery.

*

Gregory Luce
Enchilada's Salon

Monday, 24 October 2011

Sparse

Like a priest in a stuffy church-
the lawn sprinkler dispenses sparse blessings
upon the parched grass.

*

Teri H Hoover
a small stone gathering

Sunday, 23 October 2011

TWO RED WINGS

All that’s left to glow
of the cardinal

that my across-the-street
neighbor’s cat killed

*

Howie Good
Apocalypse Mambo

Saturday, 22 October 2011

Still watching my step for a tail that sits as ashes on my dresser.

*

Jessica Negron

Friday, 21 October 2011

the evening still hot -
fullness of a moon
on my walk home

*

gillena cox
Lunch Break

Thursday, 20 October 2011

Melts Away

when will I ever learn
love, delicate and new
like snow melts away

*

Melanie Bishop

Wednesday, 19 October 2011

the planted garden done for the season, only wildflowers persist

*

Scott Owens

Tuesday, 18 October 2011

It is a hot day, dry as an old bone,
and suddenly
I want to be swimming,
my shoulders covered in cool water,
my hair solid and dark.

*

Kathleen Brewin Lewis

Monday, 17 October 2011

Waikiki beach—
arrival of tourists
in high heels

*

Christine L. Villa
Blossom Rain

Sunday, 16 October 2011

the baby
on her mother's bare back
learns through her skin
the way
things have always been

*

James Newton

Saturday, 15 October 2011

seed holes
I say hello to the neighbor
I quarreled with

*

Melissa Allen
Red Dragonfly

Friday, 7 October 2011

It's my birthday tomorrow...


So I'm giving myself a week off : )
Normal service will resume on the 15th of October.
Thank you all for reading/contributing. Keep coming back.

Thursday, 6 October 2011

in a break from our usual programming...

if you'd like to get some support to have a go at writing your own small stones, try Kaspa's seven day 'experience' with quotes, encouragement and a place to write your small stones. it's free... thanks all for reading & contributing, fiona

Wednesday, 5 October 2011

A hoard of fat daises spring up from the horse cropped grass.

*

Kaspalita
another small stone

Tuesday, 4 October 2011

melts away

when will I ever learn
love, delicate and new
like snow melts away

*

Melanie Bishop

Monday, 3 October 2011

dreaming of Gogö-an

Reading Ryokan before
sleep--
I hope to dream of
his hermit hut
high in the misty mountains
with its pine needles, bamboo,
and white asters

*

Carla M Wilson
wet leaves

Sunday, 2 October 2011

the green walls
of the C & D Canal—
no trace of
the men and donkeys
who dug the cut by hand

*

M. Kei

Saturday, 1 October 2011

Flags

Tethered colours flap and fly, shape-shifting against the sky.

*

Maria Marcaigh

Friday, 30 September 2011

After the Rain

on the edge of a leaf
a rain drop contemplates

leaping.

*

Karuna Chandrashekar
Tinydancer

Thursday, 29 September 2011

the air heavy
with incoming rain
i cradle the nectarine
with both hands
to inhale its scent

*

Aubrie Cox
Yay Words!

Wednesday, 28 September 2011

The separated half of the motorcycle
walks stiff legged through the crowd
insect head menacing

*

Niall O'Connor
Dublinepost

Tuesday, 27 September 2011

A sleeve of rain
moves down the beach,
racing the bathers to their cars.

*

Kathleen Brewin Lewis

Monday, 26 September 2011

All White Hair

He is there with all white hair
Eating a great big brownie
And when it gets caught between his teeth It sure does become funny

*

G David Schwartz

Sunday, 25 September 2011

this morning, three kinds of blue pills
                                                          and a bird

*

Melissa Allen
Red Dragonfly

Saturday, 24 September 2011

shape of an angel all that's left where a wren hit the glass

*

Scott Owens

Friday, 23 September 2011

Charity

Some books are best read
standing upright in Oxfam
with rain dripping
from your moustache,
while all the black umbrellas
drip quietly away.

*

Ian Mullins

Thursday, 22 September 2011

Above my head and just out of reach
the bamboo and the willow
share the view of the sky.

*

Teri H Hoover
a small stone gathering

Wednesday, 21 September 2011

My grandfather’s tongue is too old to protest a movie marathon with lips that move in foreign ways. My mother won’t tell me why. Only that he deserves it.

*

Jessica Negron

Tuesday, 20 September 2011

Craobh nan Ubhal

apple tree on a spring sabbath
your leaves as still as paint
silent as the old dead
no burden of guilt yet
no sin of fruit yet

*

Marie Marshall
Kvenna ràð

Monday, 19 September 2011

the smell of sagebrush
baking in the sun as we drive across eastern washington
clears the mind
like god's own smudgestick

*

Lara Simmons

Sunday, 18 September 2011

When the fence blew down,
the neighbor-lady and I
flirted it back up.

*

Dan Simmons

Saturday, 17 September 2011

the tiger swallowtail—
one more reason
I should live

*

Aubrie Cox
Yay Words!

Friday, 16 September 2011

The dusk sky, shaded in greys, sports a ribbon of birds.
Where it began, where it will end is not known. I watch in wonder,
barefoot on the grass, the juice of a stolen plum on my tongue.

*

Charlotte
Chest of Delights

Thursday, 15 September 2011

The deep, spiced cocktail of the hedgerow -
honeysuckle, dogshit, wet grass

*

Nikki Magennis

Wednesday, 14 September 2011

tropical sunset
then suddenly
in this dark city
the stars
are the only streetlights

*

James Newton

Tuesday, 13 September 2011

He would not, could not, mow the grass
because of the star-shaped violets
amidst the green blades.

*

Kathleen Brewin Lewis

Monday, 12 September 2011

achy joints—
a bag of gummy bears
makes him young again

*

Christine L. Villa

Sunday, 11 September 2011

starless night
an unlit cigarette
in the moon's mouth

*

Virginie Colline

Saturday, 10 September 2011

inside the shop,
a flapping pigeon―
the young cashier
dropping
every penny

*

Jade Bennington
Blush of Dawn

Friday, 9 September 2011

Every time the fish resists
the river only opens her mouth
wider

*

Karuna Chandrashekar
Tinydancer

Thursday, 8 September 2011

Wednesday, 7 September 2011

Tuesday, 6 September 2011

Crickets

Just outside the window trucks pass; in the intervals crickets make their odd pleasing music.

*

Greg
Enchilada's Blog

Monday, 5 September 2011

barefoot crew—
you see some
awfully bad
toenails
at sea

*

M. Kei

Sunday, 4 September 2011

hummingbird:
I barely see its colors —
gone

*

Craig W. Steele

Saturday, 3 September 2011

A break in our usual programming...

Hello.

I never get to say 'hello' to you because your beautiful small stones take centre stage here, as they should do.

But this morning I woke up to discover there was no small stone, and so I'll take this opportunity to say not just 'hello', but 'thank you'.

Thank you to all of you out there, writing small stones. Thank you to those who send them in. And thank you to everyone who reads this blog, and who has supported me over the years.

I don't know how many of you know about the other stuff I do (which is growing and growing). You might like some of it. I have a free book about Lorrie and her grey life and her discovery something that helps. With Kaspa I run a marvellous smorgasbord of ecourses (you can get onto the ones starting Monday if you ask me very nicely by the end of the day). We have a free community for writers interested in paying attention. We have a chat once a week and put it online. We interview amazingly creative people every Friday. And that's before breakfast.

If you don't already, do come and say hello to me on Facebook, like our Writing Our Way Home page, and follow me on Twitter.

Do keep reading. Do keep writing small stones. Do keep in touch. Thank you thank you thank you.

Friday, 2 September 2011

Thanks to the grass, the ant is
invisible before
I notice the itch.

*

Allyson Whipple

Thursday, 1 September 2011

From departure to destination
an arabesque of free trade coffee
and treacle smiles.

*

Niall O'Connor
Dublinepost

Wednesday, 31 August 2011

katydid katydid
doodling music
in the margins of my life

*

Aubrie Cox
Yay Words!

Tuesday, 30 August 2011

In only one week
fragrant and full blooms become
brown-fringed and wrinkly.

*

Dan Simmons


Monday, 29 August 2011

Leaf whispers, telling secrets to the breeze.
Bees gossip in and out of the majoram flowers.
The air warm, hinting at the sun behind it's grey gauze.

*

Charlotte
Chest of Delights

Sunday, 28 August 2011

The precise pitch at which my son's voice turns
from whine to cry of pain

*

Nikki Magennis

Saturday, 27 August 2011

back to black
death plucks a petal
off the daisy

*

Virginie Colline

Friday, 26 August 2011

Josie says, I want an elegant dress, a painting of an apple that does not taste like paint, and a silence that does not bore me. I want a mind that does not wander. I want everyone to go away and then to come back and then to go away again. I want to tear up these words and rewrite them. May I do that, author?

*

Jade Bennington
Blush of Dawn

Thursday, 25 August 2011

in black suit and tie
a thin young man
with a cherry helmet
sits upright on his moped
speeding by

*

Carla M Wilson
Wet Leaves

Wednesday, 24 August 2011

Auntie Joyce

Her knees betraying every one of her 92 years, she levered herself from her chair so that I could hoover underneath.

She fretted about retuning the television. Digital had her beaten.

*

Rosalind Broomhall

Tuesday, 23 August 2011

Broughty Sands

The beach, corrugated by waves,
cardboard ripped from
a hundred birthday surprises...

*

Marie Marshall
Kvenna ràð

Monday, 22 August 2011

The sun shining brightly upon the yellow-green-turned plants then tattooing the shadows on the wall creating sun patches.

*

Elisa Choi
Harmony Thoughts

Sunday, 21 August 2011

Snow Moon

Pale orange moon looms huge, cinctured by thin cloud it rises higher and pales perfectly round and clear: a snow moon.


*

Greg
Enchilada's Blog

Saturday, 20 August 2011

She dances down the aisle to a song I loved when she was a child. I'm irritated. I want her to stop. I tell her that she's not the only person in the garden department. She takes the bright yellow flowers out of my hands and laughs. "No," she says, "but I am the only one dancing."

*

angie werren
this empty nest

Friday, 19 August 2011

yoga
shoulders, already tired from yesterday's
pushups, topple over in
downward facing dog.

*

Amanda Harris

Thursday, 18 August 2011

From its high vantage point, on top of an aerial, on top of the pub, a blackbird sings its heart out. Traffic hurtles by on the road below.
A woman walks past with a cat in a basket.

*

Rosalind Broomhall

Wednesday, 17 August 2011

I ride the John Deere
son follows with toy mower
cuts his own path

*

Craig W. Steele

Tuesday, 16 August 2011

Her days spent
Counting out the
Many coloured pills

*

Angelika Kolompar

Monday, 15 August 2011

Rubbish Day

I have seen the broken chairs,
the soiled, once-green upholstery,
and cried for them like living things.

*

Laura Elizabeth Woollett

Sunday, 14 August 2011

Saturday, 13 August 2011

Friday, 12 August 2011

each note
helps slow my breathing
i cup my hands
they smell
of lavender

*

Carla M Wilson
Wet Leaves

Thursday, 11 August 2011

i watch him cannonball into the pool
the Rockies still capped with snow

*

Chelsea Cullen

Wednesday, 10 August 2011

late morning sun:
freckled, heart-shaped leaves fall open―
the whole day blossoms out of this light.

*


Jade Bennington
Blush of Dawn

Tuesday, 9 August 2011

Monday, 8 August 2011

Sunday, 7 August 2011

In bed, 2 a.m.

One cold hand, one cold foot
and jostling thoughts like
so many Saturday-children.

*

Marie Marshall
Kvenna ràð

Saturday, 6 August 2011

This empty cup: You sipped the bad coffee from it, then
washed it for me.

*

Kathy in the Wallowas
Of This Place – Wallowa Country

Friday, 5 August 2011

Tucked in my warm bed, a loud burst of rain from the sky. Mom's freshly washed clothes will have to wait for the sun to dry.

*

Elisa Choi
Harmony Thoughts

Thursday, 4 August 2011

the dog groans
dream-woods dirt on her feet

this milk moon

*

angie werren
this empty nest

Wednesday, 3 August 2011

two ravens on the railway
groom each other
with soft cackles

*

m.s. mallorn
one star awake

Tuesday, 2 August 2011

Monday, 1 August 2011

Fly

Eloquent: the fly's buzz against glass and light beyond, and in the light trees, hills, sky.

*

Greg
Enchilada's Blog

Sunday, 31 July 2011

Debbah’s Ice Cream—
One scoop, one dollar.
Just the right amount!

*


Chuck Joo
JooCartoon

Saturday, 30 July 2011

On the grass, whilst walking the dog, a heart made out of pine cones.

*

Rosalind Broomhall

Friday, 29 July 2011

pearl earrings
cool against pale skin
sway with each tiny step

down

cool marble aisle
rose petal path
blushing smile

*

Melanie Bishop

Thursday, 28 July 2011

A pocketful of clover, buttercups and pebbles:
The haul of our nature walk

*

Claire Walker

Wednesday, 27 July 2011

first yellow rain —
my newborn son baptizes
the doctor

*

Craig W. Steele

Tuesday, 26 July 2011

The Lagoon

There is a small stone path
once you reach the other side
(take the dove-white canoe if you like)
and this path will lead you
to the ocean.

Meet me there in ten.

*

Carson Pierpont

Monday, 25 July 2011

Big-eyed, beautiful, bedraggled:
a brown-blond child in a navy coat.

*

Laura Elizabeth Woollett

Sunday, 24 July 2011

purple explosion
at end of green fuse —
first crocus

*

Craig W. Steele

Saturday, 23 July 2011

The arrival light of morning
tickles the birds into singing

*

Mark Stratton
Radio Nowhere

Friday, 22 July 2011

grocery shopping
mother raids the car trunk on a
ninety degree Monday, looking
for the quinoa.

*

Amanda Harris

Thursday, 21 July 2011

her son asks to climb
me like a small tree
I kiss her when
he's not looking because
I'm new here

*

Lucas Stensland

Wednesday, 20 July 2011

Summer heat.
My kitten poses
On the fence.

*

Alan Zhukovski

Tuesday, 19 July 2011

Her cat
Has the same blue irises
As a past lover

*

Angelika Kolompar

Monday, 18 July 2011

The country station:

between the rush of express trains, the sound of songbirds and the chiming of the church clock. Ponderously, an aggregates train shunts by. For a moment, nothing else exists.

*

Rosalind Broomhall

Sunday, 17 July 2011

Saturday, 16 July 2011

california-
eyes and skies a fuzzy crystal blue.
a sunlit shouldered sensation
and smirking hips and lips
without vibration

a scorched summer driveway in heat
all to my bare feet,
not a single regret.


just fingers-full of rings
and things and cigarette.

*

Amy Duda

Friday, 15 July 2011

winter morning—
little birds arching up
into the blue forever

*

M. Kei

Thursday, 14 July 2011

hugging our daughter
through watermelon belly…kick —
first butterfly kiss

*

Craig W. Steele

Wednesday, 13 July 2011

midnight snow
blows from black to black
through the streetlights

*

T.D. Ingram

Tuesday, 12 July 2011

Monday, 11 July 2011

Sunday, 10 July 2011

blue pools on pavement
green sage darkening, juniper sharp
cold rain in Dry Canyon

*

m.s. mallorn
one star awake

Saturday, 9 July 2011

That old bike, so many miles it took him, racing the cold wind.

*

Ken Head

Friday, 8 July 2011

morning comes too early in summer, covering the night like a scanty minidress on a drunken lass in the Big Market

*

Caroline Brazier

Thursday, 7 July 2011

They laughed when Anna said the real deer may try to mate with her yard’s fake, plastic deer, and there would be a whole bunch of hybrid offspring born on the doorstep, with plastic ears and eyes that wouldn’t close.

*

Scott Riley Irvine
CROWDS

Wednesday, 6 July 2011

Man Crosses Street

Brimmed leather hat,
seabag slipping off his back
like a bloated tortoise shell;
finest flip flops a dumpster-diver can buy,
and he stole the beard—from ZZ Top!

*

Wesley Dylan Gray

Tuesday, 5 July 2011

Wasps

Painted black and yellow
the broken marionette
takes too long to die.

*

Laura Elizabeth Woollett

Monday, 4 July 2011

Sunday, 3 July 2011

// next door neighbor • plays fetch with our dogs • over the back fence //

*

T.D. Ingram

Saturday, 2 July 2011

Three Great Things About Today's Ride

Red-winged blackbirds filling the air with song
A stranger waving as though we were friends
The blessed silence of a country road


*

Mrs. Micawber
Mrs. Micawber's Recipe for Happiness

Friday, 1 July 2011

the boards squeaked
shadow of the fly blinked on the wall
and vanished
in the hot air's murmur

*

Annette Anne
Hello Ann Photography

Thursday, 30 June 2011

bra hangs limp on a chair-
no one is watching.

second sigh of the day.

*

Amy Duda

Wednesday, 29 June 2011

Dark clouds dump rain on
Dozens of sober toned automobiles
The ranunculus yellow Volkswagen
Stages a one car happiness sit-in

*

Josephine Faith Gibbs
Pebbleorium

Tuesday, 28 June 2011

no snow,
no children in red caps,
not even wind,
this winter day
in silent January

*

M. Kei

Monday, 27 June 2011

A myriad of broken CD-Roms
Crushed rainbow mosaic on the path

*

Nathalie Boisard-Beudin

Sunday, 26 June 2011

hula hoops—
when I believed the world
revolved around me

*

G.R. LeBlanc
Berry Blue Haiku

Saturday, 25 June 2011

Petit Déjeuner

Robin on the lawn
how was your breakfast of worms?
I had tea and toast

*

Mrs. Micawber
Mr. Micawber's Recipe for Happiness

Friday, 24 June 2011

Spring

It has rained.
The long worm

dangles from a yellow beak.

*

Carson Pierpont

Thursday, 23 June 2011

When Grandpa died it was not thunder, not crashing wave or exploding sun--simply empty bed, sheets tucked and pressed.

*

Cody Gohl

Wednesday, 22 June 2011

The kettle whooshes gently over dusty dry tea. Steaming water meets leaves in a gradual golden embrace, infusing the pot with warmth.

*

Claire Walker

Tuesday, 21 June 2011

first sonogram —
counting every baby part
without breathing

*

Craig W. Steele

Monday, 20 June 2011

cat on its hind paws
batting at the stag beetles
blind helicopters

*

Geoff Sawers
Pioden

Sunday, 19 June 2011

origami lesson —
I fold my children
into my arms

*

Craig W. Steele

Saturday, 18 June 2011

We're getting married today....

We're hoping to get lots of small stones for our wedding present, including one from you.
Do write us a small stone and send it to us here. Thank you!

Friday, 17 June 2011

Sunrise at Colrain

Bitter chill of morning
Steals dark away
Pales the horizon to peach
Lays bare the hillside just in time
For Sol to pop up golden, and rip open the day

*

S.E.Ingraham
The Poet Treehouse

Thursday, 16 June 2011

Vagabonds

Oak and maple leaves gather
at the back door, crinkly
as old paper grocery sacks.

Dried husks of summer’s
long days, they beg to be let in
from the cold.

*

Elizabeth Polkinghorn

Wednesday, 15 June 2011

All that’s left is
a bare winter tree
that I will decorate with
a foliage of words

*

Krissie
Haiku in a Bottle

Tuesday, 14 June 2011

I can feel you somehow
you put your hand in the
air when you sleep

the snow falls. The night
is dark.

*

Annette Anne
Hello Ann Photography

Monday, 13 June 2011

On the golden cellophane around the chocolates you brought back for me,
as the mirrored circle expands
the crimson hearts grow from empty
to full.

*

Galen McQuillen

Sunday, 12 June 2011

Veiled in fog, sun masquerades as moon.

*

Josephine Faith Gibbs
Pebbleorium

Saturday, 11 June 2011

Tree skeletons
with dried fingers
scrape the winter sky

*

Niall OConnor
Dublinepost

Friday, 10 June 2011

Renewable Resources

If I take home
all of these rocks,
will the beach
slowly
disappear?

*

Lora Lyn Worden

Thursday, 9 June 2011

butter cheese and spinach sizzle-
a spoon fills with orange warmth-
the a/c roars.

first sigh of the day.

*

a.m. trumble
Originals

Wednesday, 8 June 2011

the heavy footsteps
of my obese, diabetic,
elderly neighbor
thumping up the stairs
one more time

*

M. Kei

Tuesday, 7 June 2011

we lie and wait
like dust
on the uppermost
book shelf

*

Heather Brager
Touching the Art

Monday, 6 June 2011

on the way to counselling
buds emerging from trees in shadow
remind me of shrapnel
metal wounds blossoming
from flesh

*

Tammy Hanna
The Heartful Blogger

Sunday, 5 June 2011

my parents’ headstone
bracketed
by my children

*

Craig W. Steele

Saturday, 4 June 2011

a moment
found,

eyes closed
back against the wall
waves of conversation

stilled

*

Isabela Oliveira
stone and bits of sky

Friday, 3 June 2011

The perigee moon,
saffron disc
snared in a net
of black branches.

*

Margo Roby
Wordgathering

Thursday, 2 June 2011

The firm dark shell imprisons exquisite cream. Gooey whiteness, with a delicious dot of yellow, oozes from the bitten top. What tongue-twisting fun to pillage the inside of a Cadbury Egg.

*

Elizabeth Puglise

Wednesday, 1 June 2011

// squirrel sprawled flat • in full birdbath • to beat the heat //

*


T.D. Ingram

Tuesday, 31 May 2011

Monday, 30 May 2011

On each darkened vine
New little green hands wave in the wind.

*

Nathalie Boisard-Beudin

Sunday, 29 May 2011

I want to tell you how your presence
reminds me of carnivals
and communion at once,
but the words stay lodged
in my throat.

*

Elizabeth Polkinghorn

Saturday, 28 May 2011

stellate yellow leaves plastered to concrete
a sodden grey feather on the staircase
After the storm.

*

Laura Elizabeth Woollett

Friday, 27 May 2011

he balances words carefully
in the space between them
she focusses on his deliberate fingers
not on her reflection in his eyes

*

James Newton

Thursday, 26 May 2011

Three Great Things About Today's Ride (thoughts on cycling)

Filigree of oak against the pale blue sky
A passing train tempting me into a sprint
The half-grown moon looking over my shoulder

*

Mrs. Micawber
Mr. Micawber's Recipe for Happiness

Wednesday, 25 May 2011

The raccoons
sorting through the garbage cans,

pause only for the moon.

*

Carson Pierpont

Tuesday, 24 May 2011

Open the door to the balcony.
I want to smell the leaves
Desperately sticking to the windows
In the boiling storm.

*

Alan Zhukovski

Monday, 23 May 2011

Above a tub of soil my hand holds
a small mound of lettuce seeds,
long and slender, light and dark.
How many salads in my hand?

*

Josephine Faith Gibbs
Pebbleorium

Sunday, 22 May 2011

they lay together
whispering in the grass

my face was covered
by berry stains

*

m.s. mallorn
one star awake

Saturday, 21 May 2011

pop rocks and children, sizzling, sparkling, and popping, giggles and laughter

*

Terri Stewart

Friday, 20 May 2011

Thursday, 19 May 2011

Moon of Mine

Oh moon of mine, creamy as
Vintage roses, newborn lambs;
Nearer earth tonight than at any time
In four hundred years
I could pluck you and tuck you
Up my sleeve

*

S.E.Ingraham
The Poet Treehouse

Wednesday, 18 May 2011

Skinny Parking

See the soccer mom
park her Durango
in the narrow spot?
She’s squeezing
into skin-tight jeans.
Again.

*

Laurie Kolp

Tuesday, 17 May 2011

silence
between a cricket’s
chirrups

*

Craig W. Steele

Monday, 16 May 2011

well when
this dream started
I thought I guess
that all the chemicals and machines
would become plants and animals

*

Melissa Allen
Red Dragonfly

Sunday, 15 May 2011

milk climbs its way through my coffee
like hoarfrost on windows
little fingers reaching out

*

Corey Hutchins

Saturday, 14 May 2011

The victim’s bald head
broke like an egg squeezed
between a child’s fingers.

*

Amit Parmessur
The Rainbow Rose

Friday, 13 May 2011

Wednesday, 11 May 2011

I catch a glimpse of myself
in another time, perhaps,

broken, recovering
on a curb.

*

Isabela Oliveira
stone and bits of sky

Tuesday, 10 May 2011

It is good to hear
The trilling scale of birdsong
Drowning the
Mausoleum
Drone of
The freeway

*

Gemma's Earth Gems

Monday, 9 May 2011

five small poems

just there
your scent
i am undone

.

speak to me
use
only vowels

.

your steady gaze
thick in the
space
between us

.

the back of my hand
grazes
your lips flower

.

this
thick
tongue
sweet like
treacle

*

Crow Files

Sunday, 8 May 2011

Unrolling the cuffs of my jeans
before putting them in the washing
machine, dozens of bits of forest
tumble out, scatter on the floor,
stowaway souvenirs of our walk
in the woods.

*

Elizabeth Polkinghorn

Saturday, 7 May 2011

Standing under a tree of cherry blossom, I am a child playing at being a bride.

*


Tammy Hanna
The Heartful Blogger

Friday, 6 May 2011

Two macaws
fly in tandem
blue red blue red
wingtip to wingtip
wheeling and dipping
with the currents.

*

Margo Roby
Wordgathering