Small white flakes wander by my window, the neighbour presses their nose into theirs. A proud cardinal perches in a barren tree, which stretches out into the empty sky.
This house isn't insulated so well,
but that's another project for tomorrow. So many important things in life can't happen today; and the cardinal ignores it all, searching for seeds.
Ojibway Park Ovillejo
A totem pole guards a parking lot
The wondrous world of wildlife converges
Surges with lupine.
A wily fox snake sneaks
Where night eyes peek.
The Eastern Towhee twists its beak
A turtle submerges before long
A Northern Cardinal tweets its song
Tranquil spot surges with lupine, where night eyes peek.
(Previously appeared in Northern Cardinal Review)
Mark Nenadov is a poet from Essex, Ontario, Canada. He lives with his
lovely wife and their baby daughter. Mark's poems have appeared in
publications in the United States, Canada, Pakistan, Australia, England,
and Ireland. He also has a poem in the Whisky Sour City anthology
recently published by Black Moss Press. See http://www.marknenadov.com for more details.
J. Langford is a 2014 Pushcart Prize Nominee. He lives in Sydney, writes
novels, stories, poetry and creates video poems. Recent publications include
Five Poetry Magazine, Forge Journal and The Glass Coin. He works in television
and has made short films, some screening internationally. A novella, Bottomless River (2012) and a poetry
collection, Caged without Walls
(2013) are out through Ginninderra Press.
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, Danse Macabre – An online literary magazine and Lyrical Passion Poetry E-Zine. She has reached The Heron’s Nest consideration stage twice. Haiku is published weekly on Haikuary.
to my vampire lover sometimes you make me angry i'd just love to shove garlic down your throat and stake you beneath a blood red moon, yet i know i never could because no matter how furious you make me i believe in a thing called love; and i'd never stopped nor will i ever even if you can't love me, even if you killed me i could never haunt you— because i love you, and that's why i let you shove me away because sometimes when you love someone you have to let go even if i could never let you go. the sweetest song if i could set the moon on fire i'd let the embers dance the balm of your name against my flesh to weep with the willows, and perhaps you think lucy a little too sentimental; maybe i am, but rose petals could never kiss me with the fragrance of your laughter or cry me the petals of your soft lips— if the stars were mine i'd give them all to you so darkness would never shroud you with it's crown, and i wish you could see no matter how bad you think you are for me you're the one that makes my soul sing the sweetest.
M. Crate is a poet and writer born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania yet
raised in the rural town of Conneautville. Her poetry, short stories,
articles, and reviews have been published in a myraid of magazines. Her
novel Amethyst Epiphany is forthcoming from Assent Publishing. You can follow more of her work here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Linda-M-Crate/129813357119547.