Featured Poet – William Cullen Jr.
learning to sleep alone
the depth of moonlight
in an empty vase
first snow
staring at the monkey cage
the homeless man
Earth Day
the expiration date
on my bottled water
flirting florist
she shows me
her venus flytrap
last call
my empty glass
full of moonlight
William Cullen Jr. is a veteran and works at a social services non-profit in Brooklyn, NY. His poetry has appeared in such journals as Gulf Stream, Lake Effect, Spillway, The American Journal of Poetry and The Christian Science Monitor. His haiku have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies and have won recognition in such contests as the HSA Henderson Haiku Contest, the Kusamakura Haiku Competition and the Mainichi Haiku Contest.
windswept hills
a wooden pin holds
her twist of hair
– Anne Elise Burgevin
stretched out tonight
across the whole bed
Orion at zenith
– Susan Yavaniski
snowflakes
the carollers’
pianissimo
– Roland Packer
abandoned rake
the leaves
left to the wind
– Kerry J Heckman
even whiter
as the moon rises
snowberries
– Lori Kiefer
the old mandolin
a tune in G minor
all it remembers
– Ross Moore
first snow
a crow unfolds
its shadow
– Joanne van Helvoort
autumn light
poems by Billy Collins
punctuate the day
– Kevin Valentine
in part
belonging to the mountain
magpie song
– Gavin Austin
reading fortunes
in the winter stars
fisherman
– Roberta Beach Jacobson
lace curtains
frost blooms
on the moon
– Kathryn Liebowitz
frozen lake
skating from cloud
to cloud
– Kevin Valentine
snail at the temple gate
soft footsteps
of the pilgrim
– Mike Fainzilber
slick with ice
the path
to the skating rink
– Tony Williams
the front’s shifting edge
snowdrops covered
in snow
– Polona Oblak
waterfall …
never wed
to my watch
– Laurie Wilcox-Meyer
fruit flies
or floaters
autumn afternoon
– Mark Forrester
forest bathing
my monkey mind
takes to the trees
– Julie Schwerin
record warmth
a snowman slouching
towards Bethlehem
– Susan Yavaniski
way to go
a lifeless fly
in the wine
– petro c. k.
city crows
with a lot to say
salted sidewalk
– Agnes Eva Savich
hard edge
of the thick saijiki …
autumn deepens
– Keiko Izawa
north country
the hewn face
of the waitress
– Shawn Blair
no home
to go back to
autumn stars
– Maria Concetta Conti
seesaw
the abrupt bump
of hitting bottom
– Ruth Holzer
one more glass
to make it this year’s last …
pre-AA meeting
– Chen-ou Liu
stars hover
the distance between
track marks
– Lorraine A Padden
colder
with wind chill
tattoo
– Roland Packer
he tells me
about his lice and the drugs and …
crickets
– Sam Renda
razor wire
along a fence top
migrating swallows
– Marietta McGregor
november sunlight
the sealed calendar’s
cold touch
– Keiko Izawa
far below the bridge
his shadow leans
over the rail
– Owen Bullock
a bite
out of the Amanita’s cap
bone-white moon
– Jenny Ward Angyal
autumn leaf
wrinkled and cracked
this beggar’s hand
– Maya Daneva
winter deepens
i adjust
my biometric
– Roberta Beary
wishing
I’d kissed you
fringed gentian
– Kristen Lindquist
first date
his red rose
matches her shoes
– Mona Iordan
tilted night sky
Orion
brushes my ear
– Carolyn Hall
rendezvous
trying to fit that word
in my palette
– Lakshmi Iyer
sweet nothings
a tuft curling out
of his ear
– Susan Yavaniski
blowing over
a cup of hot chocolate
winter clouds
– Paula Sears
a tenmoku jar
shaped by moonlight
the potter’s life
– Thomas Powell
cirrus dusk
the rhythm of whiskers
on an old cat’s face
– Lorraine A Padden
cloud pruning …
how my father chose
each word
– Peter Newton
fallen leaf
only one
ripple in the pond
– Mason Asakura
middle school angst
letting a snowman
have it
– Mike White
aroma of asafoetida
mother’s advice
in my ears
– Nitu Yumnam
delinquent notes
slip between the keys
piano lesson
– Janet Ruth
torn diary page
I name my paper boat
Titanic
– Vandana Parashar
unpaved
County HWY
B east
– Caroline Giles Banks
fallen crow
another Sunday starts
with a grey sky
– Amoolya Kamalnath
missed the left hook
but not the right
consequences
– Ravi Kiran
the cracked side
faces the wall
hospice vase
– Edward Cody Huddleston
thunder clouds
a bus’s destination sign
flickering
– Shawn Blair
bird chatter sunrise —
letting my hunger alone
for a time
– Craig Kittner
Grammy’s quilt —
the double wedding rings’
frayed edges
– Janet Ruth
night jigsaw the vowels of another apology
– Alan Summers
winter gale
half of his garden
now mine
– Lori Kiefer
after the break-up
she still follows
my mother
– Tom Zille
night light
the full moon
wanted or not
– Joanna Ashwell
roman amphiteatre
a frenchie
the main attraction
– Polona Oblak
she says
you’ll never guess
I try not to
– Laurie D. Morrissey
no passing zone
adjusting to the speed
of Amish
– Bryan Rickert
crescent moon
a window cleaner
cleans my face
– Carmela Marino
freeze tag
the praying mantis
ghosts us
– Randy Brooks
war again and again summer grasses
– Carol Judkins
cost of living
the war
comes home
– petro c. k.
you never asked
but take it anyway
forgiveness
– Ravi Kiran
one war
pushed off the front page
by the latest one
– Annie Bachini
broken olive branches war news
– Mircea Moldovan
this paper trail
of my immigrant past …
motes in the moonlight
– Chen-ou Liu
tipping point
the crackle of salt
on sidewalk ice
– Debbie Olson
on the bus
snagged by something
her hijab tightens
– Annie Bachini
crumbling blacktop
the intentions
of crows
– Brad Bennett
mass shootings
the e m p t y s p a c e s
l e f t b e h i n d
– Nancy Orr
old offshore rig
a sandpiper on one leg
in oil
– Archie Carlos
discarded jumper cables DNR
– Jerome Berglund
fish scales …
cobblestones shimmer
in the rain
– Mary McCormack
dad’s western boots …
his many steps now at rest
on my hearth
– Stephenie Story
traffic circle
learning to go
with the flow
– Sharon Martina
lost in a book
the afternoon sun finds me
through a window
– Kerry J Heckman
lazy Saturday …
I look deeper and deeper
into the shopwindow
– Manoj Sharma
used bookstore
I buy all the best
inscriptions
– Laurie D. Morrissey
high summer skies
our journey together
in her stretch marks
– John Hawkhead
writing a while
the ellipsis
and i
– Brad Bennett
one way street
rain flows both ways
into the drain
– Gary Hotham
tangled
at the back of a drawer
something blue
– Jo McInerney
boundary fence
the dark chocolate
of the heifer’s eyes
– Carolyn Hall
heavy rains —
sticking to my windowpane
two neem leaves
– Ram Chandran
pulled rickshaw
wooden arms
point heavenward
– Arvinder Kaur
crescent moon —
on a tarnished window pane
i write your name
– Maria Tosti
spring romance
I arrive with the rose
slightly rumpled
– Sam Renda
clink
of our saké glasses
winter stars
– Keiko Izawa
telling him to tell her double rainbow
– Richa Sharma
cornflowers
forgetting the color
of his eyes
– Eavonka Ettinger
the scarecrow
without a head —
this indecision
– Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
willows by the creek —
I wonder why we’re talking
about profit margins
– Michael Dylan Welch
origami folds …
the complexity
of gender identity
– Jan Stretch
visiting time
trying to remember
what not to say
– John Hawkhead
opinion page
who cares
what I think
– Susan Burch
shadow
I know it’s not yours
it’s wearing a hat
– Christine Eales
leafless birch she tells her friend about ghosting
– Marietta McGregor
late October
the candy-apple stickiness
of childhood
– Debbie Olson
laundry day
my aging clothes
becoming lint
– Al Williams
back when cooking with gas
was a compliment —
air quality science
– Wilda Morris
rural interstate
the single corn stalk row
between lanes
– Bryan Rickert
slanted light …
a crimson leaf falls
on fox scat
– Janice Doppler
flaming out
October maples
at their peak
– Peter Newton
palmetto spring
the countersinging
of painted buntings
– Kristen Lindquist
gloaming …
a spider clings to
her egg sac
– Anthony Lusardi
in the copse
a different silence
in the meadow
– Mark Forrester
a red scarf —
the snowman twice
as naked as before
– Mike White
war
searching for a safe space
in my brain
– Roberta Beach Jacobson
autumn equinox
a giant fruit poster
peeling off
– Ella Aboutboul
digital therapy exposing bit by bit
– Michelle V. Alkerton
whipping away
my side of the conversation —
cemetery wind
– Sandra Simpson
red geraniums
if only life was
as consistent
– Madhuri Pillai
gender conference …
a friend whispers their wish
to be a river
– Srini
the rustling of an autumn maple
awaiting
the biopsy results
– Kelly Sargent
once beyond reach
how leaves crackle
under my shoes
– Meera Rehm
starfish
a newborn’s hand
unfolds
– Betsy Hearne
Ash Wednesday —
the church carillon plays
”Silent Night”
– Nancy Brady
temple prayer
a moth flickers
through candlelight
– David He
All Souls’ Day
I begin to notice
the lengthening night
– Joshua St. Claire
midlife afternoon
leaves rearranging
the labyrinth
– Dan Schwerin
Midnight Mass
the faint smell
of mothballs
– Joseph P. Wechselberger
family farm
a cemetery
with room to grow
– Julie Schwerin
autumn sky …
half in, half out
of this world
– Sally Quon
stardust all the things we could’ve been have been
– Ruchita Madhok
autumn chill …
all the half-truths
that make up a life
– Angela Terry
my generation —
autumn rain rushing
down the road
– Meera Rehm
Thanksgiving dinner
lots of photos of grand-pa
in case
– Daniel Birnbaum
hearing test
a pause …
too pregnant
– Nathanael Tico
Halloween
the skeleton of my hand
reveals arthrosis
– Marie Derley
three hands
on her belly …
moonquake
– Debbie Strange
guests gone …
the sad face
of the cushions
– Muskaan Ahuja
gratitude journal
the meandering curve
of a river
– C.X.Turner
i commune
with this day
wafer moon
– Laurie Wilcox-Meyer
half cups of tea
the conversation turns
toward compassion
– Anne Elise Burgevin
double shift
the singsong voices
of nurses
– Tony Williams
heirloom seeds
learning to walk lightly
on the earth
– Patricia Hawkhead
Art by Ron C. Moss, haiku by Rob Scott
