Contributor: Sawyer Carpenter

- -
Our life
was the bleached
hospital hall
the pristine waiting room
with its flutter magazine
pages bent

A routine
of wake up coffee
rinse repeat

Until of course
an idle cataclysm
forced reevaluating


- - -

Contributor: Hannah Scarlet

- -
We wrest ourselves
from the deep
sucking wound
in earth

We have been on
this Saturday
lunch packed journey
my sneaker slipped

Sliding as an
earthquake
with a moist plucking
sound

As this planet
pulls me down
for a close talk.


- - -

Contributor: Russ Cope

- -
Some people
live their lives
poised in the edge
of a caffeine bauble,

I prefer
the whiskey bottle broken
open,
floating up on the carbonation
of a Pilsner

I prefer
the clarity of vodka
sweetness of rum
or even a wine infusion

to the sucrose
kisses of candy coffees.


- - -

Contributor: E.S. Wynn

- -
I imagine you
I imagine you here
instead of there
here
cuddled up on my couch
with a book
and there's coffee in the press
there's the whistle of the pot
there's the scent of something delicious
just finishing in the skillet
and you shift
and you smile
and you look at me
as I rise
as I cross to kiss you

and it's just one
of a thousand such moments we will share
simple, sweet
moments we'll want to repeat
moments that won't get old
even as we do
even as we do, together.


- - -
E.S. Wynn is the author of over sixty books in print and is the chief editor of Thunderune Publishing. This poem is one of many featured in the book titled "What Will Be"

Contributor: Donal Mahoney

- -
Light ambrosia of the sun
is over all of her.
She is shy

the way the flicker
pink of rabbit eye
is shy. Within the

almond hair, cliffs
of cheek round in, where
unifies her chin.

There, two birds meet
before they carry out her smile.


- - -
Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, Missouri.

Contributor: Natalie Bentley

- -
My identity
started as a small token
no larger than a dime

My strengths
could fit in a thimble
my fears the edge
of a sheet of paper

Longer I went
and longer I grew
until I was large
as a two story house.


- - -

Contributor: Angelica Fuse

- -
go ahead
think you can
push back
make the wall
meet me

I am a secret
soundless weapon
waiting
to retaliate.


- - -

Contributor: HR Creel

- -
There is no patter,
no foot that treads on floorboards,
only our quiet childless reflection,

giving our affection where we may,
filling our lives with other voices.


- - -

Contributor: Roger Still

- -
I stopped by
on my way in
just to make sure I was
in the right place,
which made them all
laugh.
They told me I had
qualified for a special
prize to see the end
of the world
from a red velour room.


- - -

Contributor: Matthew D. Laing

- -
Sweet is the ferocious breath of the ocean years before,
once monolithic pines and ash barren as toothpicks,
splinters dotting grey sheets of steel, iron,
cumbersome clouds; sulfuric, engrossing air streams.

Small orchid of crimson and magenta
pure, innocent –underneath a sinewy board,
its frame. Most precious and pure.

Its emerald stem grows vertically yet is gracefully
pushed back down and towards
dark, dank soil-

and it’s lush green skin begins to corrupt.


- - -
Matthew D. Laing writes from Ottawa, Canada, and often prefers to hike along the dark adjacent mountainside.