Afternoon of May 4, 2024

an innermost bear

draws his claws along her skin

and brings forth blood.

 

it spills, hot, red, river-running.

 

the bear, gently, draws his tongue along the wounds

and she is cleansed

~isabella mori

spidery old apple tree

you and me

            gnarled

~isabella mori

scratchy socks

thrice darned they’ll have to last

until the babe is born

~isabella mori

mailman –

the irritated nostrils

of the doberman

~isabella mori

played in my head the Gymnopédie No. 1

trudging aimlessly

on maze-like streets of the city

~Fhen M.

on a rooftop, I talked to the full moon

requesting her to return to my arms.

~Fhen M.

whispering wind telling me about the moon

it was meant to last to caress lost souls

~Oana Maria Cercel

left the hive sweet home scent disappeared

~Oana Maria Cercel

Fast train

the door opens

to perpetual life

~Oana Maria Cercel

In this place, there’s

old & new,

order & disarray,

variety & then the mundane,

evidence of winter & spring among the

hand-me-downs & discards surrounded by

brokenness & near-perfection.

Where is this place?

My closet or my life?

Like & vice versa are the former & the latter.

~Suzanne S. Austin-Hill

Over The River


The covered bridge

flashes a strobe vision

of a primordial cave

before releasing us

to grandmother’s house.

~Diane Webster

Glee Tumbles


The three-legged chair

invites pedestrians to rest

then tumbles them out

in a wobbly guffaw

like Dad did his girls

when he pushed them

in the wheelbarrow

then tumbled them out

in arms, legs, hair

screaming in glee.

~Diane Webster

Night Eyes


Into the night two lamps

stare like beasty eyes

caught in a flashlight beam

then gone in a blink

and wondering where

they are now.

~Diane Webster

Pier Bones


The spine of the pier collapses

into a jumble of bones bleaching

into the hope of fossilization

in the river’s solid silt

encasing a wooden mummy

awaiting discovery,

awaiting reassembly

of ooh and ahh!

~Diane Webster

Moment of Gone


The crevice shimmers vertigo

of false landing only a step

away; a staircase descends

one stair at a time

each step safe and secure

against granite cliffs

until the step

that never ends

while you’re still alive

in a moment of gone.

~Diane Webster