Today’s choice
Previous poems
Diane Webster
Revenge
Squirrels dream of a cougar,
a cougar given permission
to crouch like an assassin
awaiting its prey, its target;
a cougar concealed
in the squirrel tree.
Squirrels scowl, chitter
at the woman who once fed
them corn and bread
until she met him,
him who paces beside her,
his arm around her shoulder,
her arm around his waist.
A couple made to sicken squirrels
until midnight revenge twitches
dreams as the cougar leaps…
Today the woman walks alone
noticing squirrels spiralling the tree
as if rejoicing in the sun’s rising,
wondering if she has an ear of corn.
Diane Webster‘s work has appeared in North Dakota Quarterly, New English Review, Studio One and other literary magazines. She had micro-chaps published by Origami Poetry Press in 2022, 2023, 2024 and 2025. Diane was a featured writer in Macrame Literary Journal and WestWard Quarterly. Her website is: www.dianewebster.com
Alison Patrick
A dozen snail shells exposed on dry soil
in the archangel’s cut brown stalks.
Banded like fairground sweets and helter-skelters . . .
Julie Egdell
At the shore of impossibility
last moments come to nothing
all our plans die in the salt air
of another new day on the black sea.
Elena Chamberlain
My trans friends and I just want to go swimming
in cold water
without a thousand eyes watching.
Regina Weinert
It was the snatch of a dream,
someone said this is not
what you do in the desert,
it was one precise thing, not a list . . .
Philip Dunkerley
We leave early, drive for two and a half hours,
park, find the church where you were married.
Marc Janssen
The sky opens
Blinking its single slackened eye.
Sigune Schnabel tr. Simon Lèbe
She cut letters out of me,
which quietly and unnoticed
danced red poems.
Pat Edwards
He is in white-out, stopped in his tracks,
dying for the comfort of a fag.
He makes a chalice around the flame,
hands becoming shield so he can light up.
Pamilerin Jacob
Annette the gap-toothed,
You kissed a man & I was born. You gave him
your laughter & he built an empire,