Haiku and other brief poems
children’s silence
all eyes
on the spider
By
Theresa A. Cancro
Broken typewriter…
How many poems
Are left inside it?
By
Anna Goluba
On Planet Grandma
The sky is filled with children
Circling above her
By
David J. Bookbinder
the dry grass
swishes back and forth
nasal hair
By
David Roberts
I’m lazy, baby.
When I roll up my sleeves, it’s
a fashion statement.
By
Jane Wallace Pearson
meeting
over –
all
the yawns turn
to
applause
Muskaan Ahuja
Caught between the angry
Conversation of sea and shore
Shells remain silent
By
Laurie Kuntz
mobile phone
vibrating on my pillow
your name in lights
By
Ciarán Parkes
Valentine’s Day party
only mom at the preschool
without a ring
By
Tia Hayes
Yellow leaves drop down
like old phone books from heaven.
One has your number.
By
Allen Guest
distant ship –
the waves bring me back
pieces of moon
By
Dennys Cambarau
in the old orchard
sad apple trees
concede their mortality
By
Phil Huffy
I can’t give you the moon and stars,
but you’re always welcome to look
through my telescope
By
Bartholomew Barker
read me like a story
lick me like a stamp
send me to heaven
By
Genie Nakano
under a moon-lit sky
our whispered secrets
stolen by the wind
By
Isha Navare
gold dust
the ducks shedding off
morning dew
By
Bidyut Prabha Gantayat
as rain writes
poems on windscreen
wipers turn the pages
By
Ram Chandran
lady bug
clings to window screen
wants in
By
Lisa Reynolds