• Claire Rosilda Norman

    the curl of the wave
    a glimpse of something
    I can't keep

  • House Entomology

    under night's cover
    small beetles ratter-tat-tap
    on ancient oak beams


    moon’s light through window
    white squares on the kitchen floor
    crossed by a black beetle


    moth dressed in white light
    tapping softly on the glass
    craves the bedside lamp


    hatched from the wood pile
    by the fire's warmth, a surprise;
    winter butterfly


  • Joanna Ashwell

    I remember a time
    of bluebird song
    and poppy fields
    where we ran headfirst
    into our dreams


    night cradles
    rock our dreams
    to and fro
    distilling them
    into morning light


  • John McManus


    ready for food the thing in the mirror wants out 

    a bowl of bruised fruit the fame begins to fade

    a dog howling parcels for the dead man

    tethered to all within this consequence of stars 

    the exposed flesh of a peach in sepia

    a precipice behind your yawn is mostly green 

    horses I keep forgetting to feed your ego

    the war we watch inside a clock’s face

  • John McManus

    argument over
    she snores on her side
    of the pillow wall


    the masseuse’s hands
    begin to wander


    the harsh aftertaste
    of vending machine coffee —
    ICU at dawn


    finding my name
    on an old headstone —
    distant lightning


    counting pigeons
    in the park
    my old math teacher


  • Mark Powderhill

    warm breeze
    the cat runs over
    the piano keys


    faded memories
    the intricate stitching
    in grandma's quilt


    behind the silver tinged clouds
    an orange glow
    bonfire night

  • McManus, John

    cathedral gargoyles
    she asks about
    my demons


    sunlit sand
    my daughter strokes
    the donkey’s shadow


    ripples on the pond
    my wife points at the child
    who looks just like me


    face to face once more
    with my childhood bully —
    open casket


    closed lilies
    I decide to say


    we share
    one last kiss...
    gentle rain

  • Robert Davey

    a heap
    of bikes and teens


  • Robert Davey

    April evening -
    a robin cedes the garden
    to a blackbird


  • Robert Davey

    morning mist -
    a cigarette billowing
    on the frozen road