what pushes the camellias into withering?
butterfly wings alight on tomato rust

did you remember to pat the humpback whale?
painting a dream the ocean in a glass jar

how to accept her heart is a stork nest?
from far away a small gull calls

that bath water rings time and time again?
old pond a mirror held to the clouds

how many cherry blossoms make a nation?
outside the petals a dearth of familial scent

does a cry contaminate our shared air?
the scent of white tulips after a night-long rain

what do birds dream about?
millet grains blown into open beaks

a strong south wind lifts heart expectations?
for all who fall on Jupiter's moon a grieving octopus

how many raindrops make a song?
at rainbow’s end gold leaves tinkle

the world weight burnt again by summer sun?
a white glove too red to protect her from lions

Réka Nyitrai, Bucharest, Romania
Ray Caligiuri, Beaverton, Oregon, USA