Two haiku by Faustina

cold in the distance
standing atop a mountain
travel in shadows

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one gust of the wind
one breath taking me away
like a leaf falling

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Faustina, Georgia, USA.

the wind blows my mind by J D Nelson

like a loose leaf,
I flip & twist
as the sky sighs.

far from the tree
where I changed
from green to gold,
I'm flying.


J D Nelson, Colorado, USA

Escape by Gerald England

It is necessary
every once in a while
to escape
from the oppressive closeness
of the city;
to take a bus
away from the city
to a small village
up on the moors' edge
from where
I can walk up
into the hills
where there is
no roar of traffic
but the rippling of a stream
Though the city
is but a mere
bus ride away
it could be a million miles
for here is not the solitude
of the city,
which is loneliness,
but the solitude
of the country,
which is freedom.


Gerald England, Hyde, UK.

Cleaning the Saddle by Taylor Graham

I take a rag and wipe away the dust.
The leather’s dry. I rub in saddle soap
in swirls from swell to cantle. Touch of rust
on metal. Scuffs and wear marks. Heels and rope

and smell of horse long gone –
those canters, leaning with the stride
of Molly-black mare. But a girl
grows up, away

from horses; keeps the saddle for awhile.
It’s time to clear out memories and space.
I wonder what this old brown leather’s worth.
I take a rag and wipe away the dust.

Multiple Sclerosis (full of darkness) by Chris Major

I had to light your joint
you were shaking that much;
fingers that started with pins 'n' needles
had now lost grip on cups,
cutlery, job and dignity;
no matter how high you got
you never left the rock bottom
of wife in another's bed,
children now with parents.

I wheeled you outside to sunshine,
the looming shadow
of nursing homes.
Darkness leaked,
soaked your jeans crotch,
as you inhaled,
coughed,
caused blackbirds to rise
and speckle blue sky.........


Chris Major, Staffordshire, UK

Gasp by Anna Piutti

How could one not crave
the kind of truth that makes
trust skip a beat
and fall
amidst wisteria storms
when the rageful season
swarms
and sneers, shamelessly
infesting the senses?

Anna Piutti, Vicenza, Italy