Sounding Sadly | Roger Still
A low horn
from the treading dock
laps water sound
like a dog’s tongue
Old and gray
voice husk hanging
stern, unshakable
on flowering stem.
read poetry
Unheard | Angelica Fuse
A tale
untold unheard
an advertisement
washed white
a full story
after the delete key
a mouth
open
trying to form
words.
Silently | Ananya S. Guha
Act of putting together
tantrums, haywire thoughts
throw back of poetry written
in spiral bound books.
Tattered pages bleed
the word lives silently
sleeps silently
dies silently.
Shearing | Angelica Fuse
Long into
the night
our royal
coat
ruffled to earth
whiskers
dropped below
the blade.
Fussy Bits | Tandem
Proper hands
make a fuss
Folding paper
dressing silver
Wear the gloves
it’ll help.
Entryway | Edgar Law
I linger in the doorway
to the conscious
recounting the tribulations
wondering if I will ever
let the beehive in my mind
subside long enough to
trip inside.
Coming Clean | Roger Still
Scrub me, cleanse
me, wash my facade
until all blemishes
of personality and pride
erode away in a stream.