At what frequency does this thread vibrate?
Bach at twilight
the spider’s choreographic
moves
Diana Webb
tiny haibun
n.t
Fairies left gifts here beneath the tree where she dreams. Which to choose. A trinket of wood? A trinket of gold?
a breath
through the leaves
sky’s alchemy
Diana Webb
Birth Story
As the ooze cooled, joints jutted between long, smooth slopes. An unforgiving fragility to climb.
primal churning
a meadow sweats
til the avalanche
Kat Lehmann
Salt on the tongue
The sea is the sea is the sea is the sea whether on the Costa del Sol or a demure resort on the Isle of Wight
sunrise
over the pelagic horizon
matching underwear
Diana Webb
A Time to See
Up in the early hours to brew a coffee munch a chocolate bar. Feels a bit of a dare like midnight feasts of schooldays
dark of the pine
against dark of the sky
morning star
Diana Webb
Abacus
Only one more hour until dawn. Even on the shortest night deprivation of light and all it brings a challenge.
inner silence
counting on
the blackbird ‘s notes
Diana Webb
ALICE IN CORONALALALAND 6: AND GO ON TILL YOU COME TO THE END . . .
Or not.
swansong
no legendary
descending octave
Helen Buckingham
ALICE IN CORONALALALAND 5: THE CHESHIRE CAT
circling his ‘i’s he fine toons his (spleen + bleach) speech
rearranging
the lecterns
on the titanic
Helen Buckingham
what if
I would wake up inside a peony small like an elf and it’s sunday
two pinkish mice
track for mask parcels
summer wind
Isabella Kramer
ALICE IN CORONALALALAND 2: THE THREE A’S
Asleep all day.
Awake all night.
Alive. (In spite of a certain FaceTime tea party.)
out of the frying pan–
no one to bellyache
Helen Buckingham
