Ballad of the Wind. By Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

I listen

to the ballad 

of the wind.

The wind clings 

to everything,

from a toy car

to an open book.

Crops grow

and lands change.

The wind sings on.

In the sky

a speck of dirt flies.

The still statue

takes a break.

Shirts sway on clotheslines.

I sense the ballad

and I sense the wind.

A human cannot sing

like a gust of wind.

A human cannot see

the wind singing on the moon.

To an astronaut 

this is untrue.

Who says all humans are astronauts?

I listen to the ballad

of the wind. I am amazed

how far it travels.

This is true.

This could be measured.

It could be an ordinary Monday.

The sweet ballad will linger.

I heard it a hundred thousand 

times in my life.

I live a life of impermanence.

This is the human existence.

The wind and the ballad 

will go on with integrity.

On rooftops,

on the moon,

the soul of the wind

will sing on while 

a speck of dust flies.

Luis was born in Mexico, lives in California, and works in the mental health 

field in Los Angeles, CA. His poems have appeared in Ariel Chart, Beatnik Cowboy,

Dope Fiend Daily, Unlikely Stories, and Zygote In My Coffee.

The Window by Michelle Chambliss

Bare trees jutting from snowy mounds

Cerulean sky, bright with the sun

Sponge painted with dusty clouds

Reprieve from the stark gloom of gray

Warm radiation through clear glass

Caressing cold skin and a weary soul

Unspoken promise of transience

Stirs the quiet whisper of hope

Originally from Janesville, California, Michelle Chambliss is a free-spirited author now residing in Reno, Nevada. Throughout her life, Michelle has enjoyed entrepreneurial pursuits such as promoting local rock bands and running her own daycare facility. Her hobbies include playing guitar, drawing, and collecting classic literature.

Smashed by Susan Tepper

Rock hail slams the roof

the room darkens

to wet clay

formed like a bowl

then smashed.

I watched blue jays

after you crashed

pecking mud patches 

where the grass went

missing.  You.  

No reason other than 

careless neglect.

Footprints left 

in dirt go nowhere.

Susan Tepper is the author of nine published books of fiction and poetry. Her two most recent titles are CONFESS (poetry from Cervena Barva Press, 2020) and a road novel WHAT DRIVES MEN (Wilderness House Press, 2019) that was shortlisted at American Book Fest. Other honors and awards include eighteen Pushcart Prize Nominations, a Pulitzer Nomination by Cervena Barva Press for the novel ‘What May Have Been’ (re-written for adaptation as a stage play to open in NY next year), shortlisted in Zoetrope Contest for the Novel (2003), NPR’s Selected Shorts for ‘Deer’ published in American Letters & Commentary (ed. Anna Rabinowitz), Second Place Winner in StorySouth Million Writers Award, Best of 17 Years of Vestal Review and more. Tepper is a native New Yorker. www.susantepper.com

Never Beat an Illness, that is Abuse! by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

The fly on the wall has a life cycle.
A movie house full of eyes.

I scratch my head without the aid of demonic possession.
Watch a single white hair cascade down into
waiting carpet.

Someone is pimping out the Magna Carta
at 10 bucks a pop.

The crucifixion was just punitive acupuncture.
Alternative medicine at its best.

Never beat an illness, that is abuse!
The idiot brigades are sticklers for this stuff.
Carpooling their way out of sanity.

I love this beer in my hand.
We are to be married in the Fall.

When the trees get naked
and the children dress up so
they look less ugly.

Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage.  His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly,The Rye Whiskey Review, Outlaw Poetry Network, Under The Bleachers, The Dope Fiend Daily and In Between Hangovers.

Become the Road. By Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

I remain unsteady and

I got nowhere to go

despite all the roads

and the sea where they end.

I never chased after

riches so I remain

in a place I cannot climb

out of. I love my life.

I feel weightless in

the pocket like a spider’s

web. I see the spider’s

scarlet belly and the sun.

Under a blue sky

I burst out laughing.

I want to cry, but I just

keep walking down the road.

I leave no footprint.

I leave no crumbs.

I go on traveling until

I become the road.

I do not look back.

There’s not much to see.

I won’t go back again

to track the places I’ve been.

If I wake in the morning,

that’s the place to be.

I’ll be by the bushes

and cry silently.

Have you ever heard

of a road crying? Have you

ever seen a road where

every step is a journey?

I’m a long way from home.

I’m shrouded in dust.

This land has claimed me.

At least I could rest.

Do not cry for me.

There’s nothing to cry for.

I have become the road.

I’ve taken my last step.

If you want to sing a song

about a weary wanderer,

go ahead. I have nothing

to say. I’m just the road.

You’ll become the road too

when you take your last step.

Luis was born in Mexico, lives in California, and works in the mental health 

field in Los Angeles, CA. His poems have appeared in Ariel Chart, Beatnik Cowboy,

Dope Fiend Daily, Unlikely Stories, and Zygote In My Coffee.

Over A Rumbly Garden by Susan Tepper

                           for Micheál Gallagher

Don’t hack to bits

what’s barely  bark

left to the old tree

withered smoke colored

unconscious neglect

half-uprooted—

Bend close you’ll see 

a hollow

where the trunk pulls away

from the ground.

Shove your fist in.

Feel the bugs swarming.

That tree was fed by rain 

and rock soil

sucked in the sunlight and

fertilized by packed snow.

The seasons. 

It grew lonely.

Failed to propagate.

That old tree sticks out 

at the odd angle

over a rumbly garden.

Pivoting its long reach.

Susan Tepper is the author of nine published books of fiction and poetry. Her two most recent titles are CONFESS (poetry from Cervena Barva Press, 2020) and a road novel WHAT DRIVES MEN (Wilderness House Press, 2019) that was shortlisted at American Book Fest. Other honors and awards include eighteen Pushcart Prize Nominations, a Pulitzer Nomination by Cervena Barva Press for the novel ‘What May Have Been’ (re-written for adaptation as a stage play to open in NY next year), shortlisted in Zoetrope Contest for the Novel (2003), NPR’s Selected Shorts for ‘Deer’ published in American Letters & Commentary (ed. Anna Rabinowitz), Second Place Winner in StorySouth Million Writers Award, Best of 17 Years of Vestal Review and more. Tepper is a native New Yorker. www.susantepper.com