Wayne F. Burke

      seagull flying over NO VACANCY beach motel * faces on a school bus: petals of flowers unopened * golden finches rise & fall like notes of a symphony before my bicycle     Wayne F. Burke’s haiku, and associated forms, have been...

Rhonda Melanson

      Holy Ground I imagine my mother pulling apart my praying hands. Don’t be such a holy roller, she’d taunt. Get over here, quit committing to the ethereal, get down on those knees and help your family pick strawberries. The bending made...