It is July, honeysuckle fingers the air, the hedgerows are sweetly scented. Brambles stretch with sugar pink blossoms, Elderflower have formed into berries. Thoughts of Jam making in September come to mind already.

*

Máire Morrissey-Cummins

winter crossroad . . .
a pomeranian pup waits
for a new owner

*

Ramesh Anand

Well, Actually I Do

Sugar is sweet,
But diabetes aint
Salt is tasty
but gives kidney issues
And smoking, man forget it
But on the other hand, who wants to live
Like this?

*

G. David Schwartz

By the grand piano
the violin virtuoso
has given the A.

*

Claudia Messelodi

Onyx

Pursed in porcelain,
wrapped in night
blue lace, an oval
onyx is present,
exposed like the
moon in my palm.

*

Bobbi Sinha-Morey

Elevated

Past the orange crane I can see the train crest
up into the air at 125th
before it rushes creakily
back beneath the sidewalk

*

Natalie Korman

bass leaps … somersaults…
a window opens
into the lake

*

Craig W. Steele

Midnight

Nightjars chittering
to a desert moon,
saying beauty
is a kind of madness.

*

Michael Dwayne Smith

An evening kite dances to the windsong
Many days I have seen it but not the owner
Today though... a man's face alight with pleasure

*

David Ashton

the ruffled man with a golf club
in the rough grass
does not see
the dandelion heads
nodding gossamer

*

James Newton

Chou

I like to watch small dogs
sniff each other
it makes me laugh.

*

Marc Carver

Small bundles of shadow rise, stretch shaking limbs, turn slick muzzles toward an open sky.

*

Jessica Otto
Chewing Wormwood

i look out the window. it's all i seem able to do.

*

Anton Frost

the first tinge of yellow in the trees, caught
in the tidal pull of wind,

the chill of fall seeps into my bones

*

Isabela J. Oliveira
stone and bits of sky

Exquisite spiderweb
with flecks of diamonds
stretched tight on the iron trellis

*

Kimberly Childers

Fall recyclables:
Wine bottle, empty soup cans:
Crisp October day.

*

Robert Demaree

summertime

umber 9 a- 1948- oil on canvas- 16x59 inches- whitespace staring up from the canvas as much a member of the palette as the blue red & yellow paint sitting in the middle of the runes glyphs & sigils inscribed in black paint somehow dancing in a jungian ballet- jackson pollock screaming no chaos dammit

*

William Wright Harris

The downward gazing bluebell tube is not really blue at all; rather shades of purple in parallel strips. En masse they make a misty carpet of blue.

*

Freya Pickard
Pure Haiku

walking the river upstream knee-deep in sun a moonscape in deep woods among deer prints in bank sand such neatly broken hearts

*

Peter Newton

storm clouds
a goldfinch sharpens
the focus

*

Matt Morden
Morden Haiku

long night...
new coolness
familiar mobile tone

*

Hema Ravi

Slices of mango
Glisten invitingly
On a chipped plate

*

Armando Corbelle

Thunder burst, watching the ripples circle in a large puddle, circles touching, overlapping, dimpling my morning.

*

Máire Morrissey-Cummins

In the same room with my four sisters, I feel like I’m in a mirrored fun house, reflecting genetic similarities.

*

Connie L. Peters
Enthusiastic Soul

midday rain
the luncheonette lamps
hanging in the sky

*

Ramesh Anand

dandelion seeds
hang-glide to new homes…
son’s first day at new school

*

Craig W. Steele

the thread in the conversation
is pulled

and there is no mending it

*

Isabela J. Oliveira
stone and bits of sky

full moon
an old man is peeing
on his own shadow

*

Suchoon Mo

this long street
for a moment suddenly
utterly silent of cars
a starling on a telephone wire
calls me

*

James Newton

CRAG

He was a barren crag of a man.
Open to feelings and stripped bare by them
but unable to move out of the way.

*

Jim Murdoch
The Truth About Lies

I Cant Find My Knees

Wont you help my please
I cannot find my knees
Left or right please

*

G. David Schwartz