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Summer Haiku 2014

by Neal Whitman The last day of spring and suddenly it is the first day of summer. At least that is so in the Northern Hemisphere. Today the season turned at 3:51 A.M. Pacific Daylight Time. I slept through its tick of the clock. When do we end and where do we begin? When do […]

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From this Height

by Cameron Conaway From this height at Sabino the tips of cattails sway like humans dancing with the colorless waves of the wind.

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Quilt

by Mark Jackley For my daughter A few minutes of cartoons as we spoon soup, January dusk, perhaps are quilted like patchwork into something I will reach for in my last winter, when I am never warm. In that bare flat, reruns on TV, hands that cradled you will finger every seam. — Mark Jackley’s […]

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Clay Vessel

by Barbara Brooks Fire’s ember tendered by moss, exposed to air, extinguished by tears. In a Room, I dance with you in light shafts, before drifting to shadow. The door cracks, a current sucks me to dark. Cold air settles, taking me to the floor. I am snagged by a crevice between boards.

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Ten Poems for Spring

by Joan McNerney Our woods are half dressed in fragile buds as dandelions sprout from nowhere. An apple blossom stolen from the park tree at dawn quivering with rain. What does this cat think strumming his tail with such ease to fugues of Bach?

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February Trees

by Daryl Muranaka In the morning, the trees surprise me. Pure white blazing with a puff of snow balancing on the tip of each branch the head of an elegant white snake bursting from the unsullied trunk. Everything clean. Everything brilliant in the sun. But beneath the snow we know the wet bark waits to […]

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Winter Haiku

Winter the season of cold. Solstice an instant in time. A tilt. Isn’t that just like a haiku? — phrase — breath — fragment I invite you on the Winter Solstice to take a breath and read this one aloud, perhaps at 5:47 p.m. to be exact. atop a lone pine a shrike in silhouette winter solstice

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Father Myrick

by Joseph Milosch When I was in Catholic school in the seventh grade, our school was next to our church. The church shaped like a cross and built out of quarry rocks gathered by the parish men. The pastor, a chaplain in the second world war, was trapped behind enemy lines without a weapon. “I […]

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If I Could Imagine

By Joseph Milosch The decal of a woman is on the red prophylactic machine in a Chula Vista bar. Across its front someone has peeled her away until she appears to have a head wound, partially encased by her undulating hair. The precise manner someone took to cut away this decal has produced a sculptured […]

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Spring Haiku – 2011

by Neal Whitman Spring Water… a bottled drink or the weather? Spring Rain… a bath & shower gel or a romantic walk? Whatever! It is a change of season, so it is time for haiku. We started the 2011 haiku annual cycle feature indoors with a spinning wheel. Now, with the vernal equinox, we head outdoors, […]

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Two Short Poems

by Alice Folkart Date Line The date line is fine with me, just can’t see that far, don’t know where you are, what day or time it is, We just whizz past it. God’s in his Heaven, all’s night on this world. Jet Lag The soul moves at its own pace will not win a […]

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Afternoon Breeze

by John Grey Wind ripples lake surface. Trees splinter. Clouds crumple. Faces fold up like accordions. No reflection is safe. Blogged with the Flock Browser

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Credit

by Susan Dion A ledger, in ink, 1941 an uncle’s appliance store one Polish lady faithfully paid fifty cents, cash every seven days, never late for twenty weeks April thru August all to purchase an iron, GE brand, with a metal-top ironing board nothing more.

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Ground truths

by Kristina Baer There’s no time today to lose my way in the thickets of the past. There’s no time to clear the way for hope or the future. There’s only time to watch that squirrel bury an acorn under the fig tree.

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Opus at Fifty

By Joseph Milosch I dreamed I was running in a field with a girl dressed in light shorts. Her tanned legs flickered and our feet flashed faster than echoes of falling footsteps as flies became fireworks, imitating centuries of supernovas. I dreamed we were running in a field without any flowers or clover blossoms. We […]

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