Morning of December 17, 2022


blinking so quick

perhaps what’s left of us

of the insect

~Daniel Birnbaum



breathing into

her own bubble...

another orbit

~Kavita Ratna



shadow

move with the sun

i myself

~Nani Mariani



five thousand mile flight

the goose in me

takes wing

~Harrison



improvising

expressing his feelings

through the plectrum

~Mark Gilbert



ache

(intransitive verb) 1a: to suffer a usually dull persistent pain, the way my teeth ache when you smile sweetly at me, and I know that means you’re lying. Again. 1b: to become distressed or disturbed (as with anxiety or regret) because I suspect you slipped and fell into another man’s bed. 1c: to feel compassion for that poor schmuck who doesn’t know he’s tangled in your web. 2: to experience painful eagerness or yearning that you’ll prefer the taste of your new love, and suck the life out of him. Instead of me.

~Nolcha Fox



winter storm

frozen solid

with anxiety

~Kimberly Kuchar



there is too

much dust

to glue myself

together

~Luke Brannon



Captive Elephant

Legs thick as tree trunks on concrete

Wonder how freedom might feel

Gray beast sways in sorrow

~Julie A. Dickson



uniforms this prison or that

~Roberta Beach Jacobson



Spitfire circling my sinews remember the war

~Mark Gilbert



broken glass

the festive spirit

of the cat

~Kimberly Kuchar



proud of his scar

he doesn't like to talk

about it

~Mark Gilbert



another gray sky

selecting

a funeral outfit

~Kimberly Kuchar



bagpipes playing

today she meets

her ancestors

~Kimberly Kuchar


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