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Roadside
Thom Norgang

Old Burma Shave signs
quick haiku for the masses
chuckle to themselves

Companionship
Thom Norgang

From a lakeside cabin
a lonely man’s saxophone
answered by a loon

Thom Norgang lives in a small town in coastal Maine. Convinced that "if you are lucky enough to live by the sea, you are lucky enough," he enjoys writing, painting and sailing. His poetry has been accepted in Big River Poetry Review, Haiku Journal, and Thrush Poetry Journal.





Good poetry is
more than mere pond, frogs croaking,
because the sky sings.

Gordon Hilgers has been writing poetry since age nine, began writing seriously simply to have space to grow within a difficult and dysfunctional family situation at 13, won short story awards in high school, and audited MFA-level poetry writing courses as a 19-year-old. He has written book reviews for The Dallas Morning News and his poetry has appeared in a cavalcade of small magazines like Buzzmonger, Deathlist 5, Red Fez, Red River Review, Misty Mountain Review, and he has reviewed haiku for Lynx. He currently lives as a fugitive in Dallas, Texas, where all poets are Marxists.




Koi
Dennis Herrell

Koi swim aimlessly
fish minds have nothing to do
until feeding time.

Lovers
Dennis Herrell

Lovers find a field
one black-eyed Susan lies there
among buttercups.

At Dawn
Dennis Herrell

Trees resemble silk—
forests become spider webs—
morning is spun gold.

Anthills
Dennis Herrell

Anthills come alive
ants organize and govern
much better than some.

Dennis Herrell writes both serious and humorous poems about his life in this civilized society. (Poking fun at himself is almost a full-time job.) He especially likes to look at the small things in everyday life that make us (him) so individual and vulnerable. Recent acceptances by Atlanta Review, Aura, Aurorean, Christian Science Monitor, Confrontation, Connecticut River Review, Pearl, Poem, Poet Lore, and others.




Stranded
Nancy May

at the funeral
only silence between us
twisted broken branch

Nature Calling
Nancy May

the first sign of spring
bulbs in a plant pot shoot out
tiny green saplings

Nancy May has haiku published in Haiku Journal, Three Line Poetry, Poetry Quarterly, Inclement Poetry, Twisted Dreams Magazine, Vox Poetica, Eskimo Pie, Icebox, Dark Pens, Daily Love, Leaves of Ink, The Blue Hour Magazine, The Camel Saloon, Kernels, Mused - the BellaOnline Literary Review, Writer’s Haven, Dead Snakes, Danse Macabre – An online literary magazine, High Coupe, A Handful of Stones, Lyrical Passion Poetry E-Zine and UFO Gigolo. Haiku will soon appear in The Germ and 50 Haikus.




Flourish
John Hayes

Trunks flourish—children
wave at circus elephants.
Shriek in gamy spray.

John gives poetry readings, acts and directs in Community Theater. He was a scurvy looking corpse on Homicide and a shopper on WIRE. Seven of his one-act plays were produced. Dark Metre, The Meadow, Aoife's Kiss, Thema, Whitefish Review, Modern Haiku, Liquid Imagination, Welter, Premonitions, Big Pulp are some of the magazines that published his work. Some of his sculpture can be seen at http://mysite.verizon.net/vze7w3iq/johnhayessculpture.




Catch of the Day
Craig W. Steele

first spring fishing trip
cupping water in both hands
I drink in dawn’s light

Pollen Count
Craig W. Steele

weeding the garden
I bring the outside inside—
son and daughter sneeze

Craig W. Steele resides in the countryside of northwestern Pennsylvania, not far from Lake Erie. He’s a professor of biology at Edinboro University. Besides Boston Literary Magazine, his poetry has appeared most recently in Mused: the BellaOnline Literary Review, Eucalypt, red lights, Halcyon and elsewhere, and is forthcoming in Stone Path Review, Ottawa Arts Review, The Lyric, Frogpond, Popular Astronomy and other places.


Renew
Rose Kowaliw

I hear the soft rain
open windows welcoming
spring’s cleaning begins.


Rain turning to snow
Nor’easter storm approaching
Going back to bed.

Newspaper Photo
Rose Kowaliw

A single robin
eating dried cherries on snow
A herald of Spring.

March
Rose Kowaliw

Icy flows melting
rivers flowing urgently
winter has let go.

Rose Kowaliw is drawn to the sparse beauty of a Haiku like the tides are drawn to the moon.







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