Leaning into the Wind

the huge cypress tree

and my body this cold night

lean into the wind Patricia Donegan

the shore pines cannot obscure

the white sound of breaking surf Jim Stanley

sitting cross-legged

friends in a circle chanting—

the full moon rises Patricia Machmiller

sound in and out of the gong

following the wooden stick Jane Reichhold

floating down the stream

orange leaves still on their twig

doubled by shadows Michael Dylan Welch

casting a dark wobbly line

the fisherman on the bank Jane Reichhold

~   ~   ~

from a nearby hill

the voice of her grandfather

promises a treat Jerry Ball

sipping the last drop of tea

we read our love in the leaves Laura Bell

a whippoorwill’s call

startles us from the silence

of the mountain stream Michael Dylan Welch

after the evening’s crickets

no coyotes . . . and no owl Christopher Herold

the door burst open—

in comes father shaking snow

in all directions Jerry Ball

children licking icicles

that melt quickly by the fire Kimberly Cortner

crimson maple leaf

impaled on the bamboo rake

fluttering wildly Christopher Herold

Canadian bacon curls

and sizzles in the skillet Jim Stanley

perfect harvest moon

the patchwork of empty lots

where the firestorm passed Mary Hill

old quilts stored in the attic—

mother, shivering, brings them down Kimberly Cortner

cherry blossom time

he photographs his fat wife

the pimple on her nose Jane Reichhold

teenager on his prom date

wonders if he has B.O. Kimberly Cortner

~   ~   ~

tulips in the yard

lift their cups to catch raindrops—

toast to beginnings Bun Schofield

eggs still warm from the hen house

carried to the new neighbor Jane Reichhold

supper casserole—

mother mixes leftovers

then adds seasoning Kimberly Cortner

her wine in a plastic cup—

a trace of gaudy lipstick Michael Dylan Welch

children recruited

for the Christmas festival

at a local church Jerry Ball

a homeless woman seeks food

finding instead warm clothing Bob Bussinger

old forest clear-cut

the lumberman folds the map

and pees on a stump Jane Reichhold

the barmaid’s husky laughter

attracts a man with gold teeth David Wright

a southern accent

dominates conversation

in the windless night Jerry Ball

drone of an airplane doing

loop-de-loops and crazy-eights Patricia Machmiller

an old window pane

distorting the gibbous moon

as I wander past Christopher Herold

empty field of com stubble—

a lone white heron and crows Kimberly Cortner

~   ~   ~

in line at the bank,

from folds in his robe, the priest

conjures a wallet Christopher Herold

after buying croissants, nuns

on a bicycle for two Michael Dylan Welch

the still, quiet hour

before the first petal falls—

walking hand in hand Michael Dylan Welch

from his hot sake warmer

he fills up my waiting cup Laura Bell

plastic champagne glass

chock full of cherry blossoms

left by the lovers David Wright

a wisteria cutting

faded between the pages Michael Dylan Welch