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The river sheds its skin and glides into the hills The stone house on the rocks above the stone river by JBMulligan The Credit Santa -- naughty or nice you're approved by Richard Stevenson a drift of leaves covering the headstone— deep autumn spring morning— brushing the sunlight into my cat’s fur by Nancy Nitrio (Wisteria, July 2008; The Haiku Calendar 2010 (Snapshot Press 2009)) hunger moon – the scent of whiskey on his fingertips road kill – a patch of snow bleeds moon set: a knife missing from her table by R.D. Bailey (Simply Haiku - Autumn 2009, vol 7 no 3) her stomach answers my question first by Raquel D. BAILEY (Simply Haiku - Winter 2009, vol 7 no 4 (last issue)) harvest moon -- in Satoyama grandma gnaws the air by Raquel D. Bailey (Mainichi Daily News - Nov. 21, 2009) the dead of winter a nameless odor …slips away by Raquel D. Bailey (International Kusamakura Haiku Competition 2009) first snow hides summer lawn furniture in stillness by Carl Scharwath lazy afternoon— the hawk drifting in circles by Nancy Nitrio rustling leaves the scent of gardenia on my cat’s fur by Nancy Nitrio (The Heron’s Nest, V IX, #3, September 2007) fall leaves whirl stirred by passing cars- tangle of butterflies by Judi Brannan Armbruster sweet tea at the row's end... I plow my shadow giggles on the path back from the creek... grass burrs at dusk by Darrell Lindsey flock of birds low in the valley whistling wind by Elizabeth Crocket red roses in bloom: blood upon your tombstone by Moonshadow paper boat stuck in the current ...her child branches bent under heavy snow his tone darkens by Angeline Lim choosing firm apples thinking of men she's dated by Ayaz Daryl Nielsen this already is an empty sheet of paper with nothing on it in such cold cities we must burn all of our words to keep ourselves warm by Jason P. Everett manta ray sting of the hoe blade by Daniel Wilcox empty begging bowl–– the moon dripping off wet leaves cold summer wind: the strike of early quince on the tongue Halloween bonfire–– a baby raccoon wearing a mask by James Bertolino |
her frayed scarf a comfort wound three times a Schubert quintet –– my black mood lifting tonight we all look up a woman walking a donkey on seashells by Neal Whitman guest room your bookmark still in place by Joanna M. Weston Visitation Hours It was a sudden death, the one that finally came to take my son. He’d been sick for some time but some hope always remained… at the doctor’s, at the clinic, at the hospice. And then it was gone. I can barely remember the endless hours between making the final arrangements and arriving at his viewing. Wracked by grief, I stand here in stony silence; numbed to the soul, yet trying to appear strong for the family. The room we chose is carefully lit, filled with the sight of flowers and the sounds of softy music, yet all I can think of is the pungent smell of the antiseptic and sweat that filled the hospice, and of his final moments. But even that doesn’t last. With a word from a well-wisher, I am brought back to the present; trapped in this moment, and all of its formalities. Broken, I find myself trying to stand guard – a useless figure still trying to watch over his child as the visitors file past to give their condolences; …an unending line of friends, partial-friends, neighbors and relatives shuffling past his coffin, each trying to get through their own uncomfortable moment as they speak to us, never realizing that half they say is stabbing me through my heart, to my soul, again and again. winter frost I start to count the guests who say he looks so alive
drought season— only wind rushing downstream (Mariposa No. 21, Fall/Winter 2009) hydrangeas nodding off … afternoon heat by Nancy Nitrio Bus stop- swiped shopping carts turned over on their sides so that they may serve as extra benches Bus ride- a man walking in the left-turn lane stops, then uses his cane as a turn signal by Michael Ceraolo (cinquain) the swelling bay –– hovering over the otter one gull half a blood-orange sun over the hill swaying hollyhocks by Neal Whitman the sky in the water
I look down on myself by Brett Nicholas Moore shadow and flutter on the stonewall one dove, then another by Neal Whitman autumn dusk the scent of the fireplaces as I rush home dry lightning... counting the seconds between raindrops by C. William Hinderliter grass soup and mudberry pie dining with my granddaughter by Carolyn M. Hinderliter (first published in Frogpond; Winter 2007) too pretty for the house -- granddaughter's bouquet of wild onions by Carolyn M. Hinderliter turning over a new leaf— spring breeze (The Mainichi Daily News, June 22, 2010) by Nancy Nitrio Dancing to the tune of foxgloves summer breeze Light rain the pin drop scent of jasmine by Claire Everett saving the web of an old house-spider from my wife's broom almost a pond almost frogs tadpoles a long dry spell tumbleweeds still tumbling a single man's thoughts - beneath the ice a lone mitten by Ayaz Daryl Nielsen Christian's new tattoo -- organic chem molecule for l.s.d. by Richard Stevenson baseball field a drifter asleep on home plate dusk at Harpers Ferry a bearded homeless man shouts out in his sleep shantytown children with dirty faces build a snowman by William Cullen, Jr. |
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