Five Fleas Merch

Evening of December 28, 2022


words leave poetree

~Robert Witmer



night flight—

the exhaust

of a jet engine

~Andrew Markowski



a roll of the dice

one by one

the bones come to rest

~Robert Witmer



cheap motel—

the vending machine

eats my money

~Andrew Markowski



awaiting biopsy results—

a spider

enters the waiting room

~Ram Chandran



shades of dusk

a murder of crows

deepen my solitude

~Neena Singh



Zazen…

on my knees

I cross myself

~Linda L Ludwig



a poet

milks his words

the muse mooed

~Robert Witmer



mu

the peace of just being

a heifer on a hill

~Robert Witmer



The Hall


In the hall was the last time I saw him.

He was a sorry sight.

And I didn’t want him giving anyone a fright.



In the house he had given joy for years.

But the sight of him now would only produce floods of tears.

There he lay with no tail or ears.



Farewell my stuffed friend.

Our time has finally come to an end.

The grandchildren have finally done you in.

And the only place for you now is in the bin.

~Lorna Smart Wordcrafter



Orion nebula

the space between

the stars and me

~Fran├žoise Maurice



after the supernova

making sandcastles

out of stardust

~Eavonka Ettinger



discarded gift bags, once full, lay empty now.

~Julie A. Dickson



decorations

stolen from the front yard

Christmas spirits

~Eavonka Ettinger

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