Category: Issue 22.2

As the seasons change once again around this blue planet it is again a privilege for us here at TINYWORDS to present many voices from around the globe. Welcome to issue

late-summer tidepool . . . rockweed sways with the in-and-out of waves

summer dusk hands scented with tomato vine  

overthinking autumn equinox

summer’s end a book returned by a friend

summer blues wisteria high in the branches of a dying tree    

Still faces it the sunflower withered by the sun

lone sunflower in the zinnia patch… the struggle to belong

expatriate her adopted tongue’s word for home

words in a jar— another try at forgiveness

letting the tea steep the questions we don’t ask

river stones taking the path of least resistance

sinking in with each step forward pickerel weed

fox tracks a new path to the creek

wood ducks their calls chase them upstream

deepening drought . . . dinosaur tracks rise out of the river

dragonfly wings a map of water

notes trickle down a riverbed of sand … the memory of water             (Originally appeared in the 5th edition of the Santoka

Flashpoint 572   In early May he assisted with logistics and media on one of the big forest fires burning in northern New Mexico. This was my son’s first battlefield

getting straight to the point cactus splinters  

a slug hole in the mushroom cap first raindrops

drumming the earth awake first rain  

storm clouds the marching band picks up speed

desert rainstorm a flood of wildflowers

wildflower meadow the names you’re not here to tell me

Twilight the autumn hills give up their colors

cycling with the brakes half on… autumn sunset

letting go of what’s not mine prairie wind  

dead hollyhocks nodding in the wind all hallows’ eve  

someone stirs in the darkened house… All Hallows’ Eve

a pair of odd socks folded into each other – month of remembrance  

sixty years on the bulge in a knuckle grazed by a fastball

stars over the fairgrounds I guess the number of jellybeans  

stars at every turn ferris wheel  

forming my opinion daymoon

redlight… greenlight… sandpipers on the beach  

seismic          shift a world         a war within    and    without           (last one previously published in Femku Mag, Issue 33,

along the ramparts of the ruined fort wild parsnip

sunflowers in the ruins a child’s voice  

seedpod rattle missing the daughter I never had  

sunshower answers to questions I never asked

a blue vase of white dahlias floating clouds

mid-autumn the carelessness of leaves

thinner day by day autumn woods

family reunion a buffet of personalities    

canyon switchback each autumn narrows the trail

high table a parliament of crows breaking bread           (originally published in Blithe Spirit 32.1, 2022)  

November sky another word for blue  

slipping the hook to swim free deep water day

bluegill at a mayfly hatch ring after ring reaches the shore  

surface ripples the songs my mother knew by heart  

late autumn the old piano covered with photographs

garbage night I lift the lid on my neighbor’s secrets  

no mail today— the postman returns the trash can to the widow’s garage  

snow-capped mountain she chose a cloistered life  

open black casket the snap of her kiss lock coin purse  

winter trees only the sound of a crow       (Originally published in EarthRise Rolling Haiku Collaboration, 2018)

garden party an evening breeze combs the willow  

wildflower honey the blackberry underside of a cloud  

she walks out of the shadow he casts… a pea tendril coils upward

anniversary dinner taking stock of restaurant peas

may i be so graceful the flight of a swallow  

end of autumn- i leave the flower shop with a grasshopper  

the road trip not as planned – thistle fluff  

spiral galaxy the whorl of a thumbprint

guitar lessons my youth an improvisation  

only child — born in the landscape of let’s pretend  

bruised peach and her nana’s rabbit foot— the child’s see-through backpack  

popping up behind the book cat ears  

my blue bathrobe worn at the hook spot — New Year’s Day

The front door wide open a shooting star

more war news the slow bleed of hibiscus tea         (Originally published in Mariposa #34, Spring 2016).  

headstone inscription the vocabulary beyond her years

drowning out the war news — spring peepers  

cultural evolution the shifting patterns of whale song  

Sunday morning by the sea how reverently we eat ice cream  

beach volleyball the moon in play  

distant laughter . . . lights of an anchored ship

a hot date the gentle creaking of moored boats       (Originally published in Frogpond vol. 43:3 (fall) 2020).

true blue the bower bird’s allure

winter camping the dark matter that hums to us  

breakup talk — our breath mingling in the winter air

new moon a higher standard of solitude       (Originally published in Frogpond 44:3 Autumn 2021).  

launch called between clouds glimpses of the moon  

all the time in the world aspen grove  

Milky Way the cigarette shorter than the ash  

hanging over us an icicle the length of March

spring burial light around the edges of the clouds  

telescope images the birth of stars already gone