By Robin Wright
Alisha, spindles of sun splashing her hair with light, runs,
bare feet tickled by a gauze of freshly washed grass, stops,
scoops gravel with hands soft as ice cream.
She devours this freedom like it’s a final candy-coated
meal. Unfettered by shoes, or car-seat straps,
no adult whisking her from harm.
She runs again, sails like a bright red kite,
ruffling on the wind’s lacy gusts, until she drops
into exhaustion’s arms.
Robin Wright’s work has appeared in Ariel Chart, Bindweed Magazine, Muddy River Poetry Review, Rat’s Ass Review, Peacock Journal, and others.
By M. Thomas Ellis
I leaned against an old oak
unduly envious of it
and so much more.
I looked up
waited for an autumn leaf to fall
just one for me to focus on
but in its own time.
I was prepared to watch it tumble
end over brittle end
down to the creek below
curious what might happen next.
A breeze coaxed
the right leaf fell
I watched it catch the current
and drift out of sight.
You will always be my muse.
By Baisali Chatterjee Dutt
The morning chill
nipped at my ears
in different languages.
in yesterday’s newspapers
and today’s leaves,
Lonely is a teardrop that never falls.
Spring came on reluctantly this year—
like the probing of a diffident lover,
uncertain of welcome.
It gave me time to remember
how much the heat of the new sun
felt like a caress
and how the breeze from the south
made me feel like shedding layers—
clothing and skin,
and running wild-hearted
through the first green.
Steve Deutsch’s work has most recently appeared in Literary Heist, Nixes Mate Review, Third Wednesday, Misfit Magazine, Word Fountain, Eclectica Magazine, and The Ekphrastic Review. In 2017, he was nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
I took a sip and dug a little deep
not knowing what to keep so I let it slip
when words are left unsaid and attentions left unpaid
so I ran instead for I’ve been misled
reaching high and feeling low
in the radio, Evenflow
thoughts arrive like butterflies (Vedder, Gossard)
out of guise and in my eyes
have mere words begun to flee
in my head I disagree
time to think time to ponder
will it be enough I surely wonder
By Katharine Griffiths
Healing hands, harming fists
Comforting embrace, crossed arms
Soulful gaze, empty look
Validating ear, deafening silence
Understanding heart, selfish attitude
Heartfelt words, stinging criticism
In death sorely missed, free to find bliss
And then, before I could guess,
you had crawled back, silent, strong,
you were resilient, I’ll give you that.
First, a smudge, jet black, spreading,
smokey, to an ink stain, which unfurled, erupted
to a bloom of thick cloud, ill and dense.
The uncertainty in myself returned,
mind and body, and while I was glad
to have you gone, there was something beautiful
in your return, and how secret you’ve become,
like a rush of starlings, folding, enveloping
upon themselves hidden before a clean slate of night sky.