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Take 5ive Issue Four -- Twenty Twenty One
Marilyn Ashbaugh
a west wind
scampers up my sleeves
I pick apples
as a poem simmers
on a back burner
sandhill cranes
dance in a murky sky
suddenly
a portal
blooms with blue
longing for slumber
leaves flutter
to garden beds
I too wish to rest
in a fairy ring
spiral
of incense. . .
in a cloud
I listen
to plum blossoms
summer flood
the willow
shelters me
from this storm
of fears
Alan Peat
she has come
for the paintings
but the dog
can’t be
equally split
twilight
becoming
birdsong
becoming
night
grey rain
at the garden’s end
a sunless tangle
burns
with a goldfinch
day moon
stone
cold
soba
noodles
Tom Blessing
a light breeze
brings the grief
of trees
smoke from
distant fires
October full moon
rises above the abandoned
shaft house
i wonder, do miners' ghosts
watch with me?
Robert Beveridge
kitten tangled
in a ball of yarn
stops to watch
light reflected
on the wall
Hassane Zemmouri
river of life..
without a destination
my boat sways with waves
on the horizon there is no shore
that opens its arms to it
Tom Bierovic
a tourist bus
crossing Pont Neuf
everyone tries
to pronounce it
with puckered lips
John J. Dunphy
sunrise
while deadheading
his American Beauty roses
my neighbor wears
his Grateful Dead t-shirt
The Brady Bunch
on the TV
in an ER exam room
watched by a woman with
two black eyes
farm field
all their vines dead
the ripe pumpkins
now linked together
by gossamer
Neena Singh
moon-lit sky
the salt desert glints
for miles on end…
the way your love glows
in my desolate heart
pink flamingos
deep in meditation
a solitude
together we feel
living miles apart
a sunset
across the ocean--
the cosmic sight
stirs a longing
to merge in its light
silent lovers
on the garden bench
a lone star
glitters twinkling
in the fading twilight
autumn rain
rises from the earth
a scent of musk
stirs again the old longing
a thornbird's song of pain
Florin C. Ciobica
in search of lost time
i reread your love letters
in an autumn day
i was missing you so much
even before our first date
another
golden autumn
without my dad
mom keeps saying
I look like him
raking autumn leaves
and bagging them
for 15 minutes a day
I hope to burn
bad memories
helping our dog
get rid of fleas
you say it is high time
to change something
in our love life
Favour Adeoye
Lighthouse
my little friend at night
pecking wood
my soul rises from the attic
into the yellow sun
night marauders
patrolling at dusk
guns akimbo
a time to part way with things
a time to weep silently
eastern wind
sweeping the dune
leaving no trail
no time to say goodbye
no time for hugs and kisses
Roberta Beach Jacobson
knowing
balloons are bad for our planet
she ties
a green ribbon to a cloud
and skips to the playground
some
fight in the name of love
all
I ask of this troubled world
is a single cherry blossom
he pours
my oolong into a fancy cup
I put
a honey biscuit on his plate
our marriage
summit
only a thousand meters more
I pray
the volcano stops rumbling
as if to warn me away
Broadway
stage door on a showy eve
I wait
to find out if he remembers
our first teenage kiss
Ram Chandran
I fly
with birds
dream
with stars
and go with sun
one
after another
the falling leaves...
my trembling hand
picks one
come, kiss me hard
once before you go
in search of mountain peaks
and ocean depths...
for, you may dissolve there forever
Christina Chin
Looking Back
Years after
I moved
my first house
stays so fresh
in my mind
Change
At the old crossroad
where the railway meets
the gravel path
I try to remember the spot
where the big house stood
Sound Streaming
Migrating geese
from the north
filling in for geese
that have gone
further south
Owen Napolitano
草の葉
Kusa no ha
Blades of Grass
Green is the color,
Of the blades of grass that wave,
In the soft wind’s gust.
Behind each blade is a snake,
Coiled, braced, and ready to strike
Robert Hirschfield
The Rocks
Sitting on the rocks
listening
to the rocks
school books on my bed--
the boy at ten
Hungering
My daughter,
the caterer,
still hungering
from what I cooked
for her.
Lafcadio
tissue paper skin
covering blue veins
I touch a feather
floating in a river
under the desolate sky
late autumn
seeking love
in an empty garden
with only a waning moon
to quench my thirst
Japanese ivy
on the brick wall
time passing
she waits inside for
the temple bells to chime
a hawk soaring
with unfolded wings
in the sun
do you remember
letting me go?
driving his ashes home
all that remains
on a summer day
he liked sitting
in the front seat
Pippa Phillips
no key
for this lock--
homesick
for a land
that never was
summer clouds
on the blue ceiling
of the black porch
I can see
yesterday
steeped
in the walls of the guest room
the lullabies
my mouther would have sung
to my sister
Marilyn Humbert
beneath
my outstretched hand
this hoary eucalypt
I long for the strength
of its long-lived life
a storm last night…
another redgum lets go
tired of life,
roots exposed to the vagaries
of a climate changing world
after rain
in the woods a mist rises
from damp earth…
my refuge from everyday
clamour and busyness
visiting mum …
we speak of simple things
her life
within four walls
my life outside ignored
Shir Haberman
last orange leaves
rattle in the
late morning wind
the maple
across the street
Michael H. Brownstein
A murder of crows
Stretched thin across the river
Did not come to harmonize
But to sing their sour-sweet song
Loud and alive in the light.
A rock day of chants
Mud sliding and then it rains
The wind backstitched and seam
This place you can hear a tree
Fall and, yes, one hand clapping.
Polar waters bleed
Ice and pebbles, stone and bone
Mountains of blue snow
Everything melts, a siren sings,
A glacier breaks at its waist.
Victoria Crawford
Collector
I ordered three books
gifts to myself: Amazon
opens the world’s door
to treasured riches of words
in yellowed reaches of age
Frozen Filigree
Frozen filigree
on the glass, ice flowers grow
I cannot touch spring
in bloom of midnight’s hoarfrost
fingers trace patterned fronds
Facts Emerge
Scientific facts
measurement, definition
marvels manifest
sea kayaking, a blue whale
emerges and emerges
Bryan Rickert
a songbird
taken by a hawk
how I succumb
to you
yet again
scrubbing floors
in this empty house
how the rain
washes in a bit
of melancholy
swimming
in deep water
it’s darkness
always bringing me
thoughts of you
Terrie Jacks
in the stillness
of a waning moon
when darkness falls
the thin light
reminds us there is hope
on the breeze
clouds of summer drift
and mountain air
for a moment carries
warm memories
once again
clouds descend
rain falls
how smooth the drops
flow upon your skin
Richa Sharma
from a gnarly oak
like a flock of crows
spring winds
carry reminiscences into
a bright autumn
i have come back,
come back to where i was . . .
with the limbs of time
will the wind lift again
that which is buried
for a while
the moth danced
around death
but then it rested
where death rests
in patterns
of moon gazing
even stillness
has a movement
of stealth
Dave Read
checking the clock
a fourth time
in ten minutes
I tick off
the moments of boredom
the country unwinds
its restrictions
on travel…
I map out
my bucket list
I pick my son up
on my way home from work…
our days
quickly merge
with the traffic
a bear settles in
to its cave
for the winter…
I pay up to park
underground
Michael Morell
breakfast
at the bird feeders . . .
a hierarchy
develops despite
my god-like intentions
some days
the only part
of my body
I inhabit is my brain . . .
low serotonin levels
a lover
of wine in my youth
it’s the grapes
i yearn for in old age . . .
reconnecting with earth
autumn splendor
guessing which leaf
will give way next;
always wrong
but still happy
Ruth Holzer
these autumn evenings
although you are falling
behind
your lengthening shadow
still touches mine
like a frog
at the bottom of a well
I gaze up
at the far circle of sky
believing that's all there is
others
nameless and numberless
you have loved
only I remain
counting and burning
the day before
open-heart surgery
I plant
a nut tree
two inches high
on the radio now
that piano piece he'd play
in the evening
as I did my homework--
turning it off
Nani Mariani
naturally beautiful
Seen from here
sun oh sun
Keep me here
Playing with friends
Mona Bedi
grown up
my son has become a man
how can i not miss
his hugs and kisses
from his childhood
grown children
say they love me
but i still miss
the simple gestures
of their childhood
Home
Submissions
Current Issue
Previous Issues
Issue One
Issue Two
Issue Three
Issue Four
Issue Five
Issue One Twenty Twenty Two
Issue Two Twenty Twenty Two
Issue Three Twenty Twenty Two
Issue Four Twenty Twenty Two: AUTUMN
Issue Five Twenty Twenty Two Yuletide
Love & Loss
Things that make you smile
Earth Day
Family
Music That Heals
The Plight of Refugees
Neurodiversity
Childhood Memories
Blog