Scattered Grains

Sandip ChauhanGreat Falls, Virginia, USA wooden raftspetals drifting aimlesslyin the stream A plea passed along by a friend catches my eye: an urgent request for women's clothing donations for Afghan refugees. I quickly search through my wardrobe, gathering whatever items I can spare. Clothes that have long been neglected suddenly gain new purpose as I carefully fold and bundle them together. Carrying the bundle, I approach the designated drop-off location. I lightly tap on the door and a woman with flour-dusted hands answers with a smile. I hand her the bundle and say, "If you need anything else, don't hesitate…

Quo Vadis

By Rupa AnandNew Delhi, India a dahlia in full bloom lifts its face to the sun Whatever is born, dies. Over the years I’ve buried koels, squirrels, bulbuls and doves. I’ve lost beloved pets and nursed dying ones. I’ve seen friends fall to covid, ill health and disease, relatives with Alzheimer’s, friends with dementia, and batch-mates dead. I’ve struggled with relationships and ended fruitless ones. It’s when Death comes riding close, that we realise our physical mortality. Yet through it all, one thing sustains me, this sense of eternal Existence, of being truly alive through the ages. I’m alive and…

For Breath

I thank you God.  For even one to disadvantage others,please forgive me, God.  With every one I praise you immanent in all creation, God. For all who wish to animate our planet well, i ask your help oh God,And that includes myself. flit of a bird through morning prayers.a sigh of wings  Diana Web - Leatherhead, Surrey, UK

THE LAST OF THE WYANDOTS

By Tish DavisConcord Township, Ohio A local artist sketches him in full Indian headdress.   At the entrance to the trail, two painters read the short biography about Bill Moose before setting up their easels along the north rim.  A viewing platform overlooks the ravine where brown leaves ferment along the bank of a stream.  Glacial erratics are scattered along the bottom— fallen warriors on flat limestone. Indian Run Falls, heard but not seen.  Voices in the abandoned village. I’m a few steps behind carrying my camera.  The sunlight is filtered by Maple, Blue Ash, Shagbark Hickory.  An occasional opening…

That Day

By Reid HepworthSidney, British Columbia, Canada People sometimes mistake innocence with ignorance. It certainly isn’t that way with my brother. Today, my brother got a bee in his bonnet and won’t let it rest. He keeps bringing it up. It doesn’t take long, what with his incessant harping and a healthy dose of reality checking, to motivate me to start listening.  In no time, he has a bunch of us agreeing to give up our afterschool hours and weekends to help him. Armed with clipboards and a handmade petition, we knock on neighbourhood doors, and ask for signatures. Most of…

Black Hole

By Alan PeatBiddulph, Staffordshire, United Kingdom This morning I awoke with an ocean inside me. The faint cries of gulls gave the game away; that, and a gentle lapping at the back of my throat. With every breath, salt air filled the room; shoals of fish swam in my belly; sharks slept; the calls of whales boomed deep within me; kelp waved behind my eyes. All was well until lunch when the cramps began. By evening, I had no choice but to take a taxi to the hospital. The doctors ummed and ahed; the nurses frowned. I guess they’d never…

No Chirps

By Pravat Kumar PadhyIndia no chirpsin barren treesI grievefor the lost treasureof mountain green

truth-be-told

By Roberta Beach JacobsonIndianola, Iowa, USA straying farfrom the truth-be-toldcracks in democracy

Pancake Moon

By Anju KishoreBengaluru, India pancake moonstories the beggar feedsher toddler Published in THF Haiku Dialogue 3/23

Taylor Swift Changes Controversial Lyrics

by Neal WhitmanPacific Grove, CA, USA In a poem the Soviets pre-dated 1916Akhmatova wrote no one would wantto listen to songs now thatthe bitter days foretold had arrived.Fifty years later in 1966 Frank Sinatra quippedthat the world would be a dreary placewithout a song. He mused thatit gives you something to think about.Actually, the Russian poet penned her poemin 1917 after the Bolshevik revolution.That gives you something to think about, yes?

Noon on the Ohio

By Tish DavisConcord Township, Ohio, USA The Ohio is the most beautiful river on earth. Its current gentle, waters clear, and bosom smooth and unbroken by rocks and rapids, a single instance only excepted. 1 the muted river—a towboat nudging a coal bargeupstream  the passenger in the backof a company van jackhammerson the driver’s side   cracking concrete— the road crew boss signals with his hands In a gravel lot not far from the road, workers change into noontime poses. Some have removed their shirts. One rubs his biceps; another twists the cloth to wring out the sweat.  Some of the younger men gather around a…

El Pueblo Unido 

By Peggy BilbroAlabama, USA mixedinto the chilijalapeños the special flavorthat gives spice to life Our favorite Mexican restaurant. The best flautas and quesadillas, not to mention the sizzling fresh fajitas. Their margaritas weren’t the best, but the food and the servers over-rode that deficit. They were the sweetest employees who always recognized us, and loved to speak Spanish with me, as a retired Spanish teacher. Then we noticed that one by one they started disappearing. Our favorite server was no longer there to greet us. The young fellow at the cash register had disappeared. The motherly lady who always sat in…

Tanka – our sins

By Peggy Hale BilbroAlabama, USA our sinsunto the seventh generationwe watchthe rivers run dryand do nothing