Presence 83

your hand lingers
on the sleeve of my coat
so quietly
a late plum blossom
falls between us

~ Nalini Shetty

the sculptured head
with large, dark eyes
chosen by the man
with sculptured head
and large, dark eyes

~ Ann Rawson

the coneflowers
wilted and gone –
a hummingbird
lingers for a moment
as if to say goodbye

~ Bryan Rickert

*

deck lattice
he swims between
my legs

~ Amber Winter

a gong shudders –
ripples of koi
puzzle the moonlight

~ Peter Barnes

back alley
wasps getting drunk
on fallen plums

~ Ben Oliver

the sea anchor
digs deeper –
another opinion

~ Richard L Matta

beneath the old church
a fallen hubcap
c o b b l e s t o n e s t r e e t

~ Michael Lamb

table lamp
I align papers
on the shadows

~ Anirudh Vyas

*

Rose of Sharon

Morning glory overwhelmed the garden as my mother finished her closing round of radiation. Food became harder and harder to enjoy. I told her I would clear the garden and plant her favorite herbs. She nodded with a smile poppy thin and yellow rose glad. Resting, the cancer slowly became visible in her chest while the hibiscus, verbena, basil and thyme began to creep across the ground. As it finally came time to harvest, she could no longer swallow. With the herbs left diced on the kitchen counter, she slept.

it changes nothing
a drop of dew
on a yellowed leaf

Eric Oswald, Nada Mutlaq