The Bamboo Hut February 2025
In this war torn world we all seek a little slice of peace, wherever that may be found. The news reports are depressing. Please take your time to read, enjoy and contemplate the meaning behind the tanshi that appear in this issue. Escape the negative press and immerse yourself in the world of tanshi and may you find peace, if only for a short time.
Wendy Cobourne
first winter alone
the tender white silence
of snowfall
marsh moon
between swift clouds
a flash of egret
red tricycle
the kid in me
ring-rings the bell
Theresa A. Cancro
jazz in the park---
the blue slant
of dusk
northern lights . . .
the old blanket holds
our warmth
refugee beach ...
pieces of moonlight
wash ashore
Mona Iordan
fine morning
a lawn mower
silences the trees
withered leaf
free to fly
at last
sparrows
on the patchy snow
hopscotch
C.X. Turner
bad hair day
a meadow tangled
with thistle
storm tide swells
darkness folding closer
than the shore
scattered ashes
a single flame flickers
on the horizon
worn gravestone
the wind carries
what lingers
fringe unwashed
another day collapses
in bed
Vicki Miko
immeasurable reflections
is what you see
all there is to know?
when the wind whistles
past your bedtime of dreams
spinnaker moon
oh, the curiousness
of a girl in love
with the mind of the sea
of what goes on inside
a downrush all her own
in the circle of meadowsweet
the flourish of her menses
she learns her power
from herself, the moon,
and wise woman earth
can you listen
to the willows, see its angles
let the rain tingle your skin
your nose, your tongue
and be who you are?
a tarot reading for today
Temperance says to stop,
the Hermit’s light grows
brighter from faraway
nestled in the Ten of Cups
Mircea Moldovan & Mihaela Iacob
the noise of an ATV
breaks my thoughts
I put a bookmark
where I left off
and I'm waiting for it to rain
I hear a voice
'no one should
to be so lonely'...
the rain doesn't caress my face anymore
someone opened an umbrella
at a crossroads
a coin between heaven and earth
neither head nor tail...
I chose the road where after sunset
the shadow will leave me
the winding road
reaches a dead end
he has no more coin
and also remained without a shadow
so he better whistles
Robert Beveridge
we are all neighbors
even those of us who don’t
possess a front door
the old woman's cures
are scorned by doctors but their
wives use her back door
manifesto
my sweat writes kanji
on the mattress
Lakshmi Iyer
hottest summer
the guttural caws
from open beaks
mind reading
a stone-faced owl
meets my eyes
windy day
the rear-view mirror
full of fingerprints
Melissa Dennison
in the 'burbs
everything stops...
the weight of snow
bird tracks
in the snow
spaghetti junction
refilling
the bird feeder
seed drops to the ground
winter flocks
joggers in high viz
shorts and trainers
Rashmi Vesa
my shape-shifting mind
opens a window wide
beaconing light
for the weary traveller
who seeks to return
exfoliating
my childhood dreams
I forsake
the unknowns for a life
of sad predictability
negotiating
with my tepid conscience
this autumn evening
I paint shades of grey
on my blacks and whites
Bryan Rickert
not tired of winter
tired
of this winter
frost melt
the chrysanthemum sees
another day
predicted frost
the turtle’s last breath
before the dive
crossing the field
light through a single slit
in the clouds
park bench
a single glove
hard with frost
Timothy Daly
scattered acorns
my shadow
grows longer
thawing snow . . .
the warm touch
of her forehead
window rain
clinging on
to us
old diary
the fading ink
of her memory
crowded street
looking everywhere
for haiku
Ronald Scully
what can't be seen
the centre of the stone
the arc of the toss
even the fieldstone
holds its place
in the mending wall
Eric Sundquist
not forgiving
my trespasses
nesting red-wings
north wind
a wounded pintail
trails the chevron
a way
to the interior
map lichen
a child’s breath
on the chocolatier’s window
snow globe
dropping a hook
through the dark side of the moon
ice fishing
Xenia Tran
finding solace
a flock of eider
roost on the shore
a gentle pulse ...
the moss agate
in her pocket
Acharon
nowhere left
for him to go
the horse is happy
munching grass
where the sun rises
retired now
the sweet grey
each day
we bring an apple, talk
about the good old days
so short
these cloud-like years
wintering
I ride the gallops
only in my dreams
Genevieve S. Aguinaldo
sunday sermon
cold air
on a steaming cup
at the first sun
a crow circles
an old man's roof
conversation among friends
warmth
of freshly baked bread
Michael LaBella
surface tension
a mayfly wriggles
from its shuck
summer's end chasing away sandpipers
poetry day
the classroom filling
with quiet sighs
yellow moon
the last gleam
of the trout's side
gray dusk
above the asphalt
the heron's glide
Monica Kakkar
whiter than the caps
crowning the Himālayās . . .
waft of autumn wind
tea with mandarin
ducks sleeping on the water--
waft of melodies
Billy Cushing
I have accepted
old age, even my life’s end,
but what happens next?
Hidden in a tree,
three grey owls, birds of prey, wait
for their hour to hunt.
The mullet returns.
Is this the best we can do
to comb up the past?
Vishal Pabhu
again and again
the year--
closing paper fan
wary of the wind
the moon
in a bamboo grove
stepping
into my footsteps…
snow walk
Richard West
sky-prism:
colors separate into
spring flowers
snowy egrets in fields
white spring flowers
learning the art of flying
a perfect poem
the haiku master
smiles and weeps
Chen-ou Liu
the moths batter
against the waiting room window
post-op check
the length
of an old migrant's sigh
feathers on barbed wire
in and out
I breathe the silence
milky way
her abused body
inside
the inside of her mind
Tejendra Sherchan
branch by branch
a dying pomegranate tree
its fruits too
the monstera bloom half moon
cloudy winter night frosted waxing moon
Ed Bremson
boys will be boys
driving fast, making noise
unmuffled
and the honkies
honking car horns
mall parking lot
the rich folks
locking their car doors
with one honk or more
Richard Magahiz
glassy pond: a flung stone leaves a track
equivalence
one silver hair
one hundred sins
the mystic flight
of the carpenter bee
the still grey shed
Aaron Anstett
mountain river
flicker of fish
aluminum cans
over the temple
unwinding scroll: history
of big sky and clouds
Jackie Chou & Kathabela Wilson
dance
of a driftwood snake
my stiff bones
suddenly released
by the snakecharmer
jangle of bells
laughing
into the year
the widening curve
of
the waxing moon
swallows its joke
leaving imprints
beside
the rolling waves
imagine
my flooded footprints
3000 miles away
Robert Witmer
creaking weathervane
all that's left
of the wind
a withered rose
in the scarecrow's hand
hungry birds
nude beach
she turns and smiles
at the blushing clouds
early spring
a shrinking snowman
feeds sleeping flowers
a songbird
on barbed wire
she breaks the news
Ruth Holzer
two apples shriveling in a bowl the golden years
global terror threat will I ever see the tufted puffin
summer carnival
my goldfish prize
lives for a week
Bonnie J Scherer
oyster shells on the beach
a puffin takes off
leftover crumbs
on a park bench
the coo of pigeons
plumping her coat
she rises from her perch
in-between spaces
the hungry heart
of a pickpocket
Tuyet Van Do & Trang Luong.
a tiring day
in the kitchen
sweet and sour soup (TVD)
crab feeding
in steaming hot pot
winter chills (TL)
bashing by the wind
swaying together
the wattles welcome spring (TL)
sneezing
on morning walk (TVD)
Fatma Zohra Habis
from a cocoon
the butterfly will emerge
I wait patiently
for the dawn to break
after a dark night
the colors I add
to his intentions--
evening sky
winter moon
dripping from
the shelter tent
snow
loses its whiteness . . .
city lights
Randy Brooks
the trinity
of a crocus bloom
flecks of snow
yellow jackets
their flight
to the underworld
sunfish nursery
musical chairs from
nest to nest
Fred Donovan
stone Buddha
melting snow trickles
down its cheek
January 1st
a rooster wishes me
Happy New Year
single light flickering on the far shore … darkness deepens
Margaret Tau
winter freeze
every snowflake
holding hands
we
who live with snow
kneel
to cup the face
of a crocus
Janet Ruth Heller
fine mist
flying toward me
gnats
dead spruce
decked with Virginia creeper--
red sculpture
mild January
green grass
and dandelions
Joanna Ashwell
urban fox
alley by alley
measuring darkness
pine edge
the moment snow
begins
unpicking a stitch
the oversized hug
from a stranger
singleton
what it means
to be oak
Ranice Tara
dark clouds my appeal to emotion
listening to the city fragrance of the plum
rehearsing my bridal walk scented wind
Abha Prakash
Imagine stillness.
my face submerged by smooth water
buoyancy and the weightlessness carry me away
the ocean surging with unsettled sand
She waits for truth to show its face, terrifying and bright,
All at once
it comes piecemeal, in little boxes, gifts of pain
She unwraps, one by one
Eclipsed
By a thousand fires,
stoked by human hands;
An ash grey world stirs
Thomas Smith
almost new moon
a sliver of a smile
becomes invisible
high waves break
onto black rocks
ocean into flight
leafless trees
the snowfall
of a raven's call
Maurizio Brancaleoni
withering wind --
the train is yet
to be seen
a truck moves
down a steep slope --
piercing cold
withered field --
so very few words
on the page
Kathryn Lasseter
baby raindrops
moisten my cheeks
clouds unface the sun
the plush indentation
of
footfalls
on
my
heart
peace seeks holy men
finds bent crones
sipping absinthe
lolling in hammocks
Anthony Lusardi
seasonal flowers the things we forget to attend
the family dog
so silent
as owners argue
agoraphobic
watching a spider
dangling in the window
Diane Webster
all night
shadows play hide and seek
full moon passes
cattail patch
frightened by winter
fluff on the wind
on shore
a driftwood bonfire sparkles
ember stars
Oscar Lupario
STAY TUNED
waiting room
in every hand
a smarthphone
train arrival
the short rest
of smartphones
mental void conference
the many people checking
their smartphones
life cycle
upgrading my smartphone
with new bugs
quiet day
my smartphone
left at home
Neena Singh
how I wish
to be a peacock
on a day like this…
clouds filled with rain
dance with the wind
traffic snarl:
on the roundabout
a smiling Buddha
flapping arms
a boy in the park
scares crows
Richard L. Matta
tango dancing
on moonbeams
luna moths
distant call
a passing heron
blindfolds the moon
on a comms line
doing its pre-flight check
morning crow
John Grey
cycling up
mountain trail
wind pedals
pine bough
clangs bird bell
falling leaves
pastel coins
silent rattle
dropped in cap
of beggar-man earth
turning head
pivots upon
shrugged shoulders
collapsed arms
the word "no"
Patrick Sweeney
to do like how
a silver maple leaf
does at the end
swaying trees with my granddaughter
entering at last
the realm of the sages
Diane Funston
snow falls quietly
birdhouse vacant
cat returns home
lemons to harvest
much juice to squeeze
my mother’s bitter scowl
evening in paris
and chopped onions
scents of grandma
Dennis Owen Frohlich
kitchen, living room
following the trail
of toys and chores
my wife struggles yet again
to sleep when the children sleep
carving your initials
the pine tree bleeds and bleeds
and bleeds sap
I don’t, can’t know it yet
but the relationship won’t last
broken family heirloom
a chance to learn
kintsugi
Communion Sunday
thinking about
Shinto shrines
Jerome Berglund
longest
adding the syll-
-ables in
filling mold
with wet concrete
dark dark dark
twin cities
bicicletas hablan
Govind Joshi
early autumn
the first pullover
on the road
dripping faucet
embracing
my imperfections
winter twilight
the owl quiet
on the power line
Maryam Mermey
a haiku kiss
the spaces
we leave
in the light of dusk
tree falling snow
a cardinal
feet poised
beneath the chair
doves
Joshua St. Claire.
war escalation
the red in the red
maple shadow
waning moon
I eat a slice
right off the knife
almost evening
a fishing wharf
in an unnamed lake
Joy McCall
Fiddler's Green *
I thought I heard
an old Irishman play
on flddler's green
was it only in sleep
was it only a dream?
snow was falling
the man made no mark
only the song
on the cold air
in the dark
I tried to follow
he was too quick
just one tune
and he was gone
and the night wore on
where do they go to
these old Irish men
where have they been,
passing by on their way
to fiddler's green?
I want to go too
and play the bone whistle
and sing along
wherever the dance is
wherever they've gone
*Irish song by John Conolly
AJ Johnson
skin-deep grief --
his signature lives on
as her new tattoo
cicadas emerge
after decades --
news of a comet
Manhattan --
a falcon’s stoop
unnoticed
Vidya Hariharan
Undercurrent
Slowly, leisurely
I was
indoctrinated
into the ways of
Marriage.
Pellucid
On the verge
of clear sight,
I was pulled
back-
by love
Herb Tate
withered reeds
what lies beneath
the old ways
mitten in glove
walking together
twice as far
ice bow
circling round
the standing stones
B. L. Bruce
winter’s arrival
the mourning dove
weeps
morning walk--
shimmer of frost
in the pasture
moonless night
the depth of mother’s grief
in the inkwell of sky
Ravi Kiran
all around
the make-believe mountains
frozen waves of sand
swaying web
the stillness
of a spider
autumn dawn
the time sunlight takes
to bathe a pine
Mike Everley
Half
A half empty glass
sits upon the round table
perhaps it's half full?
Beyond Stars
I put down my pen
along with cares on pillow
sleeping beyond stars.
Certainty
Don't be fooled by sellers of certainty
peddlers of truth. Reality hides
in the shadows of grey ambiguity
in silences between words.
Mike Wilson
Am I a Top?
A top spinning seems still
stands upright
as if with
will
Staring Contest
I eyeball God.
God eyeballs me.
Who’ll blink?
Either way, my heart will break.
Eva Joan
at times in the mirror
the little girl
that i once was
alone
with scary thoughts -
sickroom
New Year’s Eve -
once again
good intentions
M. R. Pelletier
themed issue
different dogs jumping
through the same hoops
book review
another's accounting
for taste
invitation only
soliciting favors
from favorites
Giuliana Ravaglia
Rinchiusa nell’ordito di piccoli baci muti
m’inoltro come gazzella nei labirinti scoscesi
del tuo silenzio
frammenti di albe sul cuscino distratto
sguardi vagabondi ad illudere sogni
attendo la musica col cuore appeso
locked up in the warp of small silent kisses
I advance like a gazelle in the steep labyrinths
of your silence
fragments of dawns on the distracted pillow
wandering glances to deceive dreams
I await the music with a suspended heart
Echi di nebbia
imbrigliano il vento sul crinale rotondo
fugge il mio tempo nell’oro dei pioppi
nel canto beffardo dell’ultima rosa
Echoes of fog
harness the wind on the round ridge
my time flees in the gold of the poplars
in the mocking song of the last rose
Nascosta sotto l'albero del tempo
nascondo i giorni di sale
fra le zolle d'un sogno
Lontano da occhi indiscreti
sciolgo le briglie al mio domani
Mentre riannodo una veste di speranza
Hidden under the tree of time
I hide the days of salt
among the clods of a dream
Far from prying eyes
I loosen the reins to my tomorrow
While I knot a garment of hope
Steve Wilkinson
Autumn Evening
The last leaf
falls from the tree
spiraling to the earth
I sit by the window
contemplating
the passing of time
Church Bell
From the tower
of St Edmunds
the Sunday bell rings
I sip tea
content in my own small world
first winter alone
the tender white silence
of snowfall
marsh moon
between swift clouds
a flash of egret
red tricycle
the kid in me
ring-rings the bell
Theresa A. Cancro
jazz in the park---
the blue slant
of dusk
northern lights . . .
the old blanket holds
our warmth
refugee beach ...
pieces of moonlight
wash ashore
Mona Iordan
fine morning
a lawn mower
silences the trees
withered leaf
free to fly
at last
sparrows
on the patchy snow
hopscotch
C.X. Turner
bad hair day
a meadow tangled
with thistle
storm tide swells
darkness folding closer
than the shore
scattered ashes
a single flame flickers
on the horizon
worn gravestone
the wind carries
what lingers
fringe unwashed
another day collapses
in bed
Vicki Miko
immeasurable reflections
is what you see
all there is to know?
when the wind whistles
past your bedtime of dreams
spinnaker moon
oh, the curiousness
of a girl in love
with the mind of the sea
of what goes on inside
a downrush all her own
in the circle of meadowsweet
the flourish of her menses
she learns her power
from herself, the moon,
and wise woman earth
can you listen
to the willows, see its angles
let the rain tingle your skin
your nose, your tongue
and be who you are?
a tarot reading for today
Temperance says to stop,
the Hermit’s light grows
brighter from faraway
nestled in the Ten of Cups
Mircea Moldovan & Mihaela Iacob
the noise of an ATV
breaks my thoughts
I put a bookmark
where I left off
and I'm waiting for it to rain
I hear a voice
'no one should
to be so lonely'...
the rain doesn't caress my face anymore
someone opened an umbrella
at a crossroads
a coin between heaven and earth
neither head nor tail...
I chose the road where after sunset
the shadow will leave me
the winding road
reaches a dead end
he has no more coin
and also remained without a shadow
so he better whistles
Robert Beveridge
we are all neighbors
even those of us who don’t
possess a front door
the old woman's cures
are scorned by doctors but their
wives use her back door
manifesto
my sweat writes kanji
on the mattress
Lakshmi Iyer
hottest summer
the guttural caws
from open beaks
mind reading
a stone-faced owl
meets my eyes
windy day
the rear-view mirror
full of fingerprints
Melissa Dennison
in the 'burbs
everything stops...
the weight of snow
bird tracks
in the snow
spaghetti junction
refilling
the bird feeder
seed drops to the ground
winter flocks
joggers in high viz
shorts and trainers
Rashmi Vesa
my shape-shifting mind
opens a window wide
beaconing light
for the weary traveller
who seeks to return
exfoliating
my childhood dreams
I forsake
the unknowns for a life
of sad predictability
negotiating
with my tepid conscience
this autumn evening
I paint shades of grey
on my blacks and whites
Bryan Rickert
not tired of winter
tired
of this winter
frost melt
the chrysanthemum sees
another day
predicted frost
the turtle’s last breath
before the dive
crossing the field
light through a single slit
in the clouds
park bench
a single glove
hard with frost
Timothy Daly
scattered acorns
my shadow
grows longer
thawing snow . . .
the warm touch
of her forehead
window rain
clinging on
to us
old diary
the fading ink
of her memory
crowded street
looking everywhere
for haiku
Ronald Scully
what can't be seen
the centre of the stone
the arc of the toss
even the fieldstone
holds its place
in the mending wall
Eric Sundquist
not forgiving
my trespasses
nesting red-wings
north wind
a wounded pintail
trails the chevron
a way
to the interior
map lichen
a child’s breath
on the chocolatier’s window
snow globe
dropping a hook
through the dark side of the moon
ice fishing
Xenia Tran
finding solace
a flock of eider
roost on the shore
a gentle pulse ...
the moss agate
in her pocket
Acharon
nowhere left
for him to go
the horse is happy
munching grass
where the sun rises
retired now
the sweet grey
each day
we bring an apple, talk
about the good old days
so short
these cloud-like years
wintering
I ride the gallops
only in my dreams
Genevieve S. Aguinaldo
sunday sermon
cold air
on a steaming cup
at the first sun
a crow circles
an old man's roof
conversation among friends
warmth
of freshly baked bread
Michael LaBella
surface tension
a mayfly wriggles
from its shuck
summer's end chasing away sandpipers
poetry day
the classroom filling
with quiet sighs
yellow moon
the last gleam
of the trout's side
gray dusk
above the asphalt
the heron's glide
Monica Kakkar
whiter than the caps
crowning the Himālayās . . .
waft of autumn wind
tea with mandarin
ducks sleeping on the water--
waft of melodies
Billy Cushing
I have accepted
old age, even my life’s end,
but what happens next?
Hidden in a tree,
three grey owls, birds of prey, wait
for their hour to hunt.
The mullet returns.
Is this the best we can do
to comb up the past?
Vishal Pabhu
again and again
the year--
closing paper fan
wary of the wind
the moon
in a bamboo grove
stepping
into my footsteps…
snow walk
Richard West
sky-prism:
colors separate into
spring flowers
snowy egrets in fields
white spring flowers
learning the art of flying
a perfect poem
the haiku master
smiles and weeps
Chen-ou Liu
the moths batter
against the waiting room window
post-op check
the length
of an old migrant's sigh
feathers on barbed wire
in and out
I breathe the silence
milky way
her abused body
inside
the inside of her mind
Tejendra Sherchan
branch by branch
a dying pomegranate tree
its fruits too
the monstera bloom half moon
cloudy winter night frosted waxing moon
Ed Bremson
boys will be boys
driving fast, making noise
unmuffled
and the honkies
honking car horns
mall parking lot
the rich folks
locking their car doors
with one honk or more
Richard Magahiz
glassy pond: a flung stone leaves a track
equivalence
one silver hair
one hundred sins
the mystic flight
of the carpenter bee
the still grey shed
Aaron Anstett
mountain river
flicker of fish
aluminum cans
over the temple
unwinding scroll: history
of big sky and clouds
Jackie Chou & Kathabela Wilson
dance
of a driftwood snake
my stiff bones
suddenly released
by the snakecharmer
jangle of bells
laughing
into the year
the widening curve
of
the waxing moon
swallows its joke
leaving imprints
beside
the rolling waves
imagine
my flooded footprints
3000 miles away
Robert Witmer
creaking weathervane
all that's left
of the wind
a withered rose
in the scarecrow's hand
hungry birds
nude beach
she turns and smiles
at the blushing clouds
early spring
a shrinking snowman
feeds sleeping flowers
a songbird
on barbed wire
she breaks the news
Ruth Holzer
two apples shriveling in a bowl the golden years
global terror threat will I ever see the tufted puffin
summer carnival
my goldfish prize
lives for a week
Bonnie J Scherer
oyster shells on the beach
a puffin takes off
leftover crumbs
on a park bench
the coo of pigeons
plumping her coat
she rises from her perch
in-between spaces
the hungry heart
of a pickpocket
Tuyet Van Do & Trang Luong.
a tiring day
in the kitchen
sweet and sour soup (TVD)
crab feeding
in steaming hot pot
winter chills (TL)
bashing by the wind
swaying together
the wattles welcome spring (TL)
sneezing
on morning walk (TVD)
Fatma Zohra Habis
from a cocoon
the butterfly will emerge
I wait patiently
for the dawn to break
after a dark night
the colors I add
to his intentions--
evening sky
winter moon
dripping from
the shelter tent
snow
loses its whiteness . . .
city lights
Randy Brooks
the trinity
of a crocus bloom
flecks of snow
yellow jackets
their flight
to the underworld
sunfish nursery
musical chairs from
nest to nest
Fred Donovan
stone Buddha
melting snow trickles
down its cheek
January 1st
a rooster wishes me
Happy New Year
single light flickering on the far shore … darkness deepens
Margaret Tau
winter freeze
every snowflake
holding hands
we
who live with snow
kneel
to cup the face
of a crocus
Janet Ruth Heller
fine mist
flying toward me
gnats
dead spruce
decked with Virginia creeper--
red sculpture
mild January
green grass
and dandelions
Joanna Ashwell
urban fox
alley by alley
measuring darkness
pine edge
the moment snow
begins
unpicking a stitch
the oversized hug
from a stranger
singleton
what it means
to be oak
Ranice Tara
dark clouds my appeal to emotion
listening to the city fragrance of the plum
rehearsing my bridal walk scented wind
Abha Prakash
Imagine stillness.
my face submerged by smooth water
buoyancy and the weightlessness carry me away
the ocean surging with unsettled sand
She waits for truth to show its face, terrifying and bright,
All at once
it comes piecemeal, in little boxes, gifts of pain
She unwraps, one by one
Eclipsed
By a thousand fires,
stoked by human hands;
An ash grey world stirs
Thomas Smith
almost new moon
a sliver of a smile
becomes invisible
high waves break
onto black rocks
ocean into flight
leafless trees
the snowfall
of a raven's call
Maurizio Brancaleoni
withering wind --
the train is yet
to be seen
a truck moves
down a steep slope --
piercing cold
withered field --
so very few words
on the page
Kathryn Lasseter
baby raindrops
moisten my cheeks
clouds unface the sun
the plush indentation
of
footfalls
on
my
heart
peace seeks holy men
finds bent crones
sipping absinthe
lolling in hammocks
Anthony Lusardi
seasonal flowers the things we forget to attend
the family dog
so silent
as owners argue
agoraphobic
watching a spider
dangling in the window
Diane Webster
all night
shadows play hide and seek
full moon passes
cattail patch
frightened by winter
fluff on the wind
on shore
a driftwood bonfire sparkles
ember stars
Oscar Lupario
STAY TUNED
waiting room
in every hand
a smarthphone
train arrival
the short rest
of smartphones
mental void conference
the many people checking
their smartphones
life cycle
upgrading my smartphone
with new bugs
quiet day
my smartphone
left at home
Neena Singh
how I wish
to be a peacock
on a day like this…
clouds filled with rain
dance with the wind
traffic snarl:
on the roundabout
a smiling Buddha
flapping arms
a boy in the park
scares crows
Richard L. Matta
tango dancing
on moonbeams
luna moths
distant call
a passing heron
blindfolds the moon
on a comms line
doing its pre-flight check
morning crow
John Grey
cycling up
mountain trail
wind pedals
pine bough
clangs bird bell
falling leaves
pastel coins
silent rattle
dropped in cap
of beggar-man earth
turning head
pivots upon
shrugged shoulders
collapsed arms
the word "no"
Patrick Sweeney
to do like how
a silver maple leaf
does at the end
swaying trees with my granddaughter
entering at last
the realm of the sages
Diane Funston
snow falls quietly
birdhouse vacant
cat returns home
lemons to harvest
much juice to squeeze
my mother’s bitter scowl
evening in paris
and chopped onions
scents of grandma
Dennis Owen Frohlich
kitchen, living room
following the trail
of toys and chores
my wife struggles yet again
to sleep when the children sleep
carving your initials
the pine tree bleeds and bleeds
and bleeds sap
I don’t, can’t know it yet
but the relationship won’t last
broken family heirloom
a chance to learn
kintsugi
Communion Sunday
thinking about
Shinto shrines
Jerome Berglund
longest
adding the syll-
-ables in
filling mold
with wet concrete
dark dark dark
twin cities
bicicletas hablan
Govind Joshi
early autumn
the first pullover
on the road
dripping faucet
embracing
my imperfections
winter twilight
the owl quiet
on the power line
Maryam Mermey
a haiku kiss
the spaces
we leave
in the light of dusk
tree falling snow
a cardinal
feet poised
beneath the chair
doves
Joshua St. Claire.
war escalation
the red in the red
maple shadow
waning moon
I eat a slice
right off the knife
almost evening
a fishing wharf
in an unnamed lake
Joy McCall
Fiddler's Green *
I thought I heard
an old Irishman play
on flddler's green
was it only in sleep
was it only a dream?
snow was falling
the man made no mark
only the song
on the cold air
in the dark
I tried to follow
he was too quick
just one tune
and he was gone
and the night wore on
where do they go to
these old Irish men
where have they been,
passing by on their way
to fiddler's green?
I want to go too
and play the bone whistle
and sing along
wherever the dance is
wherever they've gone
*Irish song by John Conolly
AJ Johnson
skin-deep grief --
his signature lives on
as her new tattoo
cicadas emerge
after decades --
news of a comet
Manhattan --
a falcon’s stoop
unnoticed
Vidya Hariharan
Undercurrent
Slowly, leisurely
I was
indoctrinated
into the ways of
Marriage.
Pellucid
On the verge
of clear sight,
I was pulled
back-
by love
Herb Tate
withered reeds
what lies beneath
the old ways
mitten in glove
walking together
twice as far
ice bow
circling round
the standing stones
B. L. Bruce
winter’s arrival
the mourning dove
weeps
morning walk--
shimmer of frost
in the pasture
moonless night
the depth of mother’s grief
in the inkwell of sky
Ravi Kiran
all around
the make-believe mountains
frozen waves of sand
swaying web
the stillness
of a spider
autumn dawn
the time sunlight takes
to bathe a pine
Mike Everley
Half
A half empty glass
sits upon the round table
perhaps it's half full?
Beyond Stars
I put down my pen
along with cares on pillow
sleeping beyond stars.
Certainty
Don't be fooled by sellers of certainty
peddlers of truth. Reality hides
in the shadows of grey ambiguity
in silences between words.
Mike Wilson
Am I a Top?
A top spinning seems still
stands upright
as if with
will
Staring Contest
I eyeball God.
God eyeballs me.
Who’ll blink?
Either way, my heart will break.
Eva Joan
at times in the mirror
the little girl
that i once was
alone
with scary thoughts -
sickroom
New Year’s Eve -
once again
good intentions
M. R. Pelletier
themed issue
different dogs jumping
through the same hoops
book review
another's accounting
for taste
invitation only
soliciting favors
from favorites
Giuliana Ravaglia
Rinchiusa nell’ordito di piccoli baci muti
m’inoltro come gazzella nei labirinti scoscesi
del tuo silenzio
frammenti di albe sul cuscino distratto
sguardi vagabondi ad illudere sogni
attendo la musica col cuore appeso
locked up in the warp of small silent kisses
I advance like a gazelle in the steep labyrinths
of your silence
fragments of dawns on the distracted pillow
wandering glances to deceive dreams
I await the music with a suspended heart
Echi di nebbia
imbrigliano il vento sul crinale rotondo
fugge il mio tempo nell’oro dei pioppi
nel canto beffardo dell’ultima rosa
Echoes of fog
harness the wind on the round ridge
my time flees in the gold of the poplars
in the mocking song of the last rose
Nascosta sotto l'albero del tempo
nascondo i giorni di sale
fra le zolle d'un sogno
Lontano da occhi indiscreti
sciolgo le briglie al mio domani
Mentre riannodo una veste di speranza
Hidden under the tree of time
I hide the days of salt
among the clods of a dream
Far from prying eyes
I loosen the reins to my tomorrow
While I knot a garment of hope
Steve Wilkinson
Autumn Evening
The last leaf
falls from the tree
spiraling to the earth
I sit by the window
contemplating
the passing of time
Church Bell
From the tower
of St Edmunds
the Sunday bell rings
I sip tea
content in my own small world
TanshiArt
Oscar Luparia & Joanna Delalande
Debbie Strange
