Laurie Kuntz writes

No swimming No fishing

the ducks in the pond

can't read

Sirinya shoots

Trad

So we pooled together our quarters
to buy a beige wedding dress
and hire a birdsong processional
and a greenwood wedding hall.
Deciding to forego a sermon,
we said those words that we meant,
and we solidified everything
with wine kisses and smoke rings.
But then this mud ball rolled below us
and moved us separate ways.

--Duane Vorhees

Alicja Kuberska writes

familial reunions

we arrive in our childhood home
my sisters-nomadic Swallows
return each year to the familial nest
they pay no heed to the difficulties of a far journey

we reminisce
until the hour of lilac clouds
swathed in the green cool of the Linden tree
and honeyed scent of flowers

the wind strumming the branches
and the curious sun
peeking through the canopy of the enormous tree
listen to the conversations

we know that we must part in the fall
I will find shelter in a distant city
black-and-white birds will go south
they will slash another azure sky

several months will pass
the sun will draw trails in the sky
it will offer strength to spreading wings
it will send an invitation to return

we will meet again
we will survive successive troubles
strengthened by the energy of the place
in which everything begun

Laurie Kuntz writes

Purple tipped

plum blossoms peek

through the dreaded sea fog

 

Anahit Arustamyan writes

STRANGER!

Stranger! I don't care who you are in this life's mystery. Being near or afar you hear my soul's symphony. The sun hides itself when the sky is cloudy. Stranger! Don't hide yourself from my love's rhapsody! Stranger! Tell me if you are really happy! Stranger! You can't be away as you blossom in my fantasy. Stranger! We are both ghosts waiting patiently. No key to a grave might be rusty. We are both ghosts as we have something empty.