Morning of September 17, 2022

out of her hair

itchy fleas and nagging

relatives

~A.J. Anwar

Bite
My meal means maelstrom in the mouth,

strange sense, secretions by the buds,

aromas acting as they should,

trigger to tingle under tongue,

sharp shooting zest to meet the test,

those first incisors, firebrand taste,

tandoori chicken, bite of breast.

~Stephen Kingsnorth

flea leaves dog

to find himself . . .

only finds me

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

worm moon

his snoring crawling

into our ears

~Minal Sarosh

Sickle
An itch is scratchy, such a nerve,

      prolonged by scratching, itchy more,

the cycle that keeps earth alive,

      sickle on to stooks, stacks, grain,

but why such happy miller’s song,

if garnered future soon laid waste?

~Stephen Kingsnorth

sickle moon

mother’s angry look

when I am late

~Minal Sarosh

 

digging up a resemblance

doll's face

~Richa Sharma

               on

         rainy days

  the umbrella grasps 

               me

                by

               the

             handle

~Bonnie J Scherer

in the dark

beyond the cellar door...

long legs crawl

through the cobwebs

of a hidden life

~Pat Geyer