Evening of December 29, 2023

 

  Covid for New Year’s.

I’ll probably be fine.

Probably.

~Noah Berlatsky

underneath the tree –

a 1000 fallen pine needles

and my cat drinking

~Jennifer Gurney

New Year's Eve

sound of gunshots

just like every other night

~John J. Dunphy

there are no more

ordinary moments –

now that my eyes are open

~Jennifer Gurney

the same steps

with different footprints

lineage

~Mona Bedi

clever or not

we never imagined the end

like this

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

Watermelon rinds of hunger sprout in my hand

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

still wondering about the pronouns winter rain

~Mona Bedi

Rain teaches you to cry

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

growing old the sisters I once had

~Mona Bedi

sailing in from past lives snowbirds on ghost ships

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

a poem written

on the wings of sleep

dances differently

~Jennifer Gurney

death the everlasting sheep

~Keith Evetts

The cry of silence in the middle of the night

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

all night worrying

whether the sleeping pills

have worked

~Keith Evetts

old hippie

now even his kidneys

stoned

~John J. Dunphy

squid-fingered slipwit

subtle as a whale

—why she loves him

~Keith Evetts