Evening of January 3, 2023

 

whether we like it

or not

the new year

~John Pappas

death poem

could have been

an email

~Mariel Herbert

Tomorrow arrived early

and left quietly

when no one was watching.

~Doug Forrest

final bargain —

a cracked egg

in the carton


~Daipayan Nair

birdwatching

thinking of the few friends

he has

~Daniel Birnbaum

suitcase

leaving the country

without him

~Lisa C Reynolds

a bloody sunset

consumes

the dog day heat

as a day lily

folds into itself

~Wanda Amos

new world

most graves

unmarked

~John Pappas

this storm threatens

to blow the whole island

away


~James Penha

winter solitude—

under paper lantern

drawing zen enso

~Ram Chandran

audiobook

choosing to drive

over plot holes

~Mariel Herbert

crashing football helmets heals hearts


~Robert Fleming

where you slept midnight divided by zero

~John Pappas

that rhyme for which there is no reason

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

tiptoeing through glass shards my childhood

 ~Reid Hepworth

if you lived in Privilege you’d be home now

~Robert Fleming

slipping into the ocean a woman made of rain


~John Pappas

Evening of December 31, 2022

seasonal affective disorder

the fresh cut flowers

are dead to me

~Kerry J Heckman

they burnt the candle

at both ends

and melt in the middle

~Linda L Ludwig

food stalls

award-winning chefs

get drunk

~Barbara Anna Gaiardoni

drowning

in their element

aquarium trolls

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

when golden arms

thaw frozen bones

stones set sail

~C.F. Tash

twinkle

tiny stars

eyeing us

with their state of the art

semaJ telescope

gathering data

snapping photos

of man's undoing

archived as

fallen stars

~Lorelyn De la Cruz Arevalo

keep

your second line longer

if you can

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

i am the diamond

the coal you threw away once

this city of mines

~Aftab Yusuf Shaikh

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

~Françoise 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