by Lee Nash

An apple has a savor, like a man…

if only it were easier to choose.

by Bruce Boston

by FABIYAS M V

by linamem6 [at] gmail.com

by trishhopkinsonpoet

by DavidKM

Breathe in, but shallowly,

by mikemc

146th Weekly Poetry Contest

by Lee Nash

I took a lover the color of coffee,

a red wine stain on his neck,

by Thorsten

by cartervance

We met in ward light,
hands bandaged from climbing cuts,
scaling places we couldn’t control,
with paper and pens and violin trills:
world seemed so sharp, without graces.

But we spoke like prisoners, batting away
winking sunshine, locked in jabbing
rhythm to see which gave first:
my flat regionalisms, your wordly
cross-splendour.