• Mathisen, Nicholas

    power lines
    two old cleats
    kick the moon


    the deeper we go
    the darker it gets
    kelp forest


    infinity of stars
    somewhere a car alarm
    starts and stops


    bringing home
    the bacon scraps

  • Matthew M. Cariello

    autumn wind
    even the dead
    tree sways

  • Matthew M. Cariello

    the one hummingbird
    I get to see
    morning glories

  • McDonald, Connor

    lunch reading
    a tangerine
    difficult to peel


    an acorn husk
         my breath
    in front of me


    cracked eggshells
            morning pain
    behind the eyes 


    the distance
    between two daffodils
    a cold spring


    the thought
    of thinking aloud
    spring haircut


  • McDonald, Connor

    to a side street
    bit of shade
    infused / taste
    of mint


    and women rush past
    emaciated & tanned
    torsos of old men


    high on Church street
    a soul stares at Christ
    on the boxing gym sign


  • Michael Lester

    this tug of war
    between staying safe
    and staying sane
    our Australian sheepdog
    squeezes through the doggie door


    bound to the earth
    by the force of gravity
    yet I dream
    of swooping over forests
    perching on mountaintops

  • Michael Morell

    Christmas in July
    fill up the yard


    family tree
    we gather around
    a fallen leaf

  • Minor, Lori A

    I lose the lily
    petal by petal

    short list, 2017 H. Gene Murtha Senryu Contest
    short list, 2017 Touchstone Award

  • Moeller-Gaa, Ben

    the church bell
    from another time


    cream coloring
    the coffee coloring the cream


    in the kitchen . . . the scent
    of last night’s coffee


    the silence at the end
    of the record

  • Moffett, Matthew J.

    not the moon the insomniac’s middle finger


    trampoline body weight measured in birdsong


    where the hummingbird was a snapshot of sky


    dead leaves rustling all the old cliches awake


    another school shooting the breeze barely sways a patch of narcissi


    morning moon through the looking glass of vodka


    leafless and ivy’s still dream of tomorrow


    white paint still tacky her last last cigarette

  • Narices

    painting class
    my three noses

    poke of the dog nose

    art museum all the square noses

    snow melt
    one carrot down

    newborn baby his daddy’s nose


  • Neal Whitman

    slats in the lattice fence
    crisscross diagonally
    in diamond-shaped spaces
    the vines intertwine
    jasmine and morning glory

    the barn window
    lit by a source
    unknown to me
    this evening
    I read Thomas Hardy

  • Neal Whitman

    medicine for my mind
    now more than ever –
    the altar candle flickered,
    but did not go out


    on the chapel floor
    was an art museum stub
    dated yesterday –
    what lines and forms did I miss
    that could have reshaped my world?

  • Nickels-Wisdom, Michael

    the dream forest at the bottom of the lake fading 


    felt       thoughtfully felt       veldt       feelingly thought       thought 


    guarded language testing the doorknobs of words 


    in reality an analogy that never breaks down 


    the more massive the number of bodies the deeper the gravity well 


    one neuron to another who can you talk to 


    a red crab eats everything and a blue crab eats its own 


    the search for the hydrant missing in the desert


    a spiral staircase lying on its side where all the weirdness comes from 


    whale          unaccompanied          cello 


  • Nika & Jim McKinniss

  • Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark  

    french horns
    green the ambience . . .
    forest light

    a fox hunkers down 
    by the river

    the silence
    a little deeper
    in the flow

    cicada cries intensify
    along the fault

    left within our selves
    not our stars

    like the face now
    worn smooth away
    from an ancient coin

    from the bathroom mirror
    a moment's self-effacement

    the come-down
    from the razor’s edge

    dripping the excess many
    when just the one will do

    under the streetlight  
    even the crows have
    high cholesterol


    Hansha Teki
    Clayton Beach

  • Pamela A. Babusci

    if you
    ask me to leave
    i will
    white dogwoods lost
    in morning haze 

  • Pat Davis

    cupped hand
    her tiny life line
    receives my coins


    antlers turn
    for a split-second
    we know each other


  • Pat Geyer

    rice sparrow . . .
    picking the bones
    of autumn


    as if
    snow in July . . .
    sulphur moths


  • pearls before swine

    misty moonlight—
    my love affair with a snake
    between dreams

    these arms left holding
    the skin of passion

    now flakes of bone
    a portrait in the steel
    of a rongeur

    a rat gnaws away
    at my memories

    the wheel grinds on
    whether the stars
    will it or not

    despite all
    Polycarp is baked 
    to perfection

    the play of stained light
    in wisps of incense 

    the holy glow
    of each minim mote
    the dust we are

    subtle accretions
    of harmonies intoned

    a medley
    of nacreous spheres
    in swine swill

    Clayton Beach
    Hansha Teki