Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
Baghdad
sand & minaret
place of myth mystery
destination of pilgrim & trader

gold blazed by sun
on turbans & burnous
camel trains riding east

I hear shrieks of drivers
cries of salt miners
watch slaves in seven veils
dance into paradise
on hashish wings

all alive in reading
The Arabian Nights
under the bedclothes


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JOANNA M. WESTON. Has had poetry, middle readers, and short stories published for thirty years. Her poetry, ‘A Bedroom of Searchlights’, published by Inanna Publications of Toronto.

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
I take today in my hand
turn it sideways
to stretch but it remains
stoic unchanged dour

a banal day armed with clichés
idle gossip and poor coffee
a day that leers through windows
refuses to laugh at good jokes
turns its back on roses
prefers to watch cars not sparrows
and claims not to comb its hair
not my favourite day


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JOANNA M. WESTON. Has had poetry, middle readers, and short stories published for thirty years. Her poetry, ‘A Bedroom of Searchlights’, published by Inanna Publications of Toronto.

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
my shadow stretches
like a doubt
reaching for certainty
given by this body
yet reaching for another

ready to touch
a different answer
not one easily given
as it moves over curbs
cars blind lamp-posts

finds resolution
in lights from a café
and spills itself
into coffee
and a friend’s ears


- - -
JOANNA M. WESTON. Has had poetry, middle readers, and short stories published for thirty years. Her poetry, ‘A Bedroom of Searchlights’, published by Inanna Publications of Toronto.

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
mother and child stand
in the middle of the map
looking at their feet
as if they weren’t sure
which way to walk

north to the Arctic
south to the Equator
or would oceans call them
either east perhaps west

they pulled the map
over their shoulders
over their heads
spun clockwise as one
then eyes closed
they stepped
into the future


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JOANNA M. WESTON. Has had poetry, middle readers, and short stories published for thirty years. Her poetry, ‘A Bedroom of Searchlights’, published by Inanna Publications of Toronto. http://www.1960willowtree.wordpress.com/

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
a bird bangs
against the window

startled I find myself
staring a robin

eye to eye
through glass

does the bird ponder
my flying fingers

on the keyboard
while I marvel

at the lift of wing
as he soars away


- - -
JOANNA M. WESTON. Has had poetry, middle readers, and short stories published for thirty years. Her poetry, ‘A Bedroom of Searchlights’, published by Inanna Publications of Toronto. http://www.1960willowtree.wordpress.com/

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
a couple planted in front of me
feet at ten past two
eyes at twelve noon

his hands one atop the other
on rigidly vertical metal cane

her hands sternly folded
over squashed leather purse

they sit and wait
staring ahead into nothing

I would like to go behind them
poke for signs of life
but am afraid there would be
no response that they like me
fear what the doctor will say


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JOANNA M. WESTON. Has had poetry etc. published for twenty-plus years. Her middle-reader, ‘Those Blue Shoes', published by Clarity House Press; and poetry, ‘A Bedroom of Searchlights’, published by Inanna Publications, 2016.

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
the time when cars pause longer at stop signs
cats are a glide of shadow by the fence
and I wait wait for darkness

in which I can hunt new wisdoms
that rise and drift into knowledge
become words I will try out over coffee
next morning and wonder if what I learned
during the half-light of yesterday
is truth or imagination to be painted on canvas
or written into a poem though I would lose
the inflow of mist and the half-seen owl that blinks
while I pass as a spectre among street lights


- - -
JOANNA M. WESTON. Has had poetry etc. published for twenty-plus years. Her middle-reader, ‘Those Blue Shoes', published by Clarity House Press; and poetry, ‘A Bedroom of Searchlights’, published by Inanna Publications, 2016.

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
this complete alphabet
from ankle to zygoma
lacks but one letter
contains hand quadriceps
liver and xiphoid process
with everything between

my anatomy embraces
any turn of phrase
until all is said
except the question

that important missing y

which signs its way
into my life story
complete with spine & head


- - -
JOANNA M. WESTON. Has had poetry etc. published for twenty-plus years. Her middle-reader, ‘Those Blue Shoes', published by Clarity House Press; and poetry, ‘A Bedroom of Searchlights’, published by Inanna Publications, 2016.

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
freewheeling down hill
wind tears at my face
before the slog up
next steep so steep

pressure hard
on each pedal

sweat under-arms
slides forehead
pools on back

reach plateau
zoom
zip
down
lean into curves
bend low on straights

smooth gear changes
brake for sharp turn
skid correct
go go go


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JOANNA M. WESTON has had poetry, reviews, and short stories published for twenty-five years. Her poetry, ‘A Summer Father’, was published by Frontenac House of Calgary.
http://www.1960willowtree.wordpress.com/

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
snippets fall
before click
flick scissors

a thin lock spills
skims my chin

quick clip
clip behind ear
swish of comb

skin whiffled clean
of split bits

trimmed primped
uplifted

unhitch glide
to fill her till


- - -
JOANNA M. WESTON has had poetry, reviews, and short stories published for twenty-five years. Her poetry, ‘A Summer Father’, was published by Frontenac House of Calgary.
http://www.1960willowtree.wordpress.com/

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
rivers taught me how to drown
moss-grown rocks stole my eyes

sea cucumbers weave tides of green
kelp ribbons wave over fields of sand

so small the seahorse rides coral
yet reefs slice my heart like blades

where spume flies with your words
the chaotic silence of a cresting wave

take high latitudes in stride
shores lie above drifting ice-bergs

long slow swell of ocean currents
this wind blows passion into foam

back to the curve of ship’s cutting bow
shrimp and crab nibble cold flesh


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JOANNA M. WESTON. Married; has two cats, multiple spiders, a herd of deer, and two derelict hen-houses. Her middle-reader, ‘Those Blue Shoes', published by Clarity House Press; and poetry, ‘A Summer Father’, published by Frontenac House of Calgary.

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
digits even or not
added subtracted
multiplied or equated
spin their reciprocal
symbols exponentially
to circulate as fractions
that leap logarithms
in ledgers made fluent
by indexed almanacs
earning daily dividends
commonly confused
by numberless nerds
like me


- - -
JOANNA M. WESTON. Married; has two cats, multiple spiders, a herd of deer, and two derelict hen-houses. Her middle-reader, ‘Those Blue Shoes', published by Clarity House Press; and poetry, ‘A Summer Father’, published by Frontenac House of Calgary.

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
rise early for quiet
motor-biker rides away

chainsaw shrieks
slices woodland hush

lawnmower growls
from neighbour’s yard

another renovates
with hammer power-saw

open garage car stutters
fails again again

stay up late party-goers
loud music fireworks


- - -
JOANNA M. WESTON. Has had poetry, reviews, and short stories published for twenty-five years. Her poetry, ‘A Summer Father’, was published by Frontenac House of Calgary.

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
side-by-side a couple sit
on the chesterfield
both grey-haired
holding hands loosely
eyes forward watching
not me peering in
through the front window

they don’t move
don’t notice my face
hands cupped around eyes

a picture of kittens
hangs behind them
a coffee table in front
with empty mugs
a plate with one cookie
the sound of voices
from the TV


- - -
JOANNA M. WESTON. Has had poetry, reviews, and short stories published for twenty-five years. Her poetry, ‘A Summer Father’, was published by Frontenac House of Calgary.

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
tarmac streams away
under turning wheels
on one side
of double yellow
that keeps me
focused in the moment
the clock the distance
both leading
to the half-hour
when my meeting
will begin on time
or late depending
on members held up
by domesticity
traffic vagaries
of personality
while I ponder agenda
speed limit
weather and the time
it takes


- - -
JOANNA M. WESTON. Has had poetry, reviews, and short stories published for twenty-five years. Her poetry, ‘A Summer Father’, was published by Frontenac House of Calgary.

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
barely visible to the naked eye
these pale green creatures
thrive on the sap of trees
and touch my lips so lightly
giving birth continuously

wondrous light-framed beings
in their strange winged forms
hover on the edge of breath
like wilted leaves or flying seeds
that tickle prickle startle

each one lies on warmth of skin
small soft-bodied pear-shaped
secreting a substance called honeydew
that tastes like summer evenings
though a sooty mold may flourish

and form a roof over their backs
which will curtail flight
and stifle whole populations
halos burned and wings dried
to airy nothingness against blue


- - -
JOANNA M. WESTON. Has had poetry, reviews, and short stories published for twenty-five years. Her poetry, ‘A Summer Father’, was published by Frontenac House of Calgary.

Contributor: Joanna M. Weston

- -
no well-beaten track
through this empty land

no imprints of feet
or bent bramble

no way to tell
who came this way

only the smell of ashes
the taste of dust

and a whisper of wind
leading onward


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JOANNA M. WESTON has had poetry, reviews, and short stories published for twenty-five years. Her poetry, ‘A Summer Father’, was published by Frontenac House of Calgary.