Category: WrittenWordWednesday

evening tea…

accessible version for screen readers: evening tea the slow steeping of stars ©2019 by Ben Moeller-Gaa in celebration of International Haiku Poetry Day Ben Moeller-Gaa is a Pushcart nominated haiku poet whose poems, reviews and essays have appeared in over 30 journals worldwide. He…

leaf pile…

accessible version for screen readers: leaf pile . . . I set aside one I don’t know ©2019 by Julie Warther in celebration of International Haiku Poetry Day Julie Warther serves as the Midwest Regional Coordinator for the Haiku Society of Amercia and facilitator…

in the classroom…

accessible version for screen readers: in the classroom children make origami green frogs hop ©2019 by Dianne Moritz in celebration of International Haiku Poetry Day Dianne Moritz writes poems and picture books for children. Her haiku has appeared in My Frog Pond, The Haiku…

Behind the Scenes of Caravan

coloring the cover of a pamphlet

Every once in awhile, the #WrittenWordWednesday column publishes work from a writer who lives in a country with restricted PayPal access. Since PayPal is the only way we can pay royalties, we have had to come up with creative ways to compensate these writers…

Caravan

desert mountains at sunrise

a tanka sequence first light of the eastern sun igniting the dust on my face: cowardice barefoot from land to land we search for pristine soil that satiates our souls bells tolling on the necks of camels this rhythm takes our deep silence to…

Naw’leans Revisited

typewriter lit by neon

It was a return trip, a bucket list type of thing. My memories had faded of this city, home of a favorite author, full of amazing architecture and wonderful food. A steamboat sung and paddled on the Mississippi, memories of the riverbank quickly replaced…

new moon, old ways

abstract of sunrise

six minutes after dawn to the west of moonset in rolling Pennsylvania hills a full moon eclipses in the east where sunrise burns red setting daughter passes rising mother paths cross coming and going un-blue-moon drops from jet ink heights through blazing white light…

heavy snow…

snow filling stone steps

accessible version for screen readers: heavy snow the sound of a man who loves his own voice ©2019 by Michael O’Brien Michael O’Brien lives in Glasgow Scotland. He is the author of, As Adam (UP Literature), Big Nothing (Bones) and The Anabasis of Man…

Late One Icelandic Afternoon

Not the holiday destination but Halldór Laxness the snow-wrapped mental angst of Erlendur the misty procession of longboats off Akureyi the past, the past, always present in the now that never seems to get noticed. How many people have passed this storefront window carrying…

Four Leafed Clover

stylized overhead photo of a woodland trail

Three, they say, is the largest number you’ll never need to count. Your eyes decide the Threeness or Unthreeness of things at a glance, along with Twoness, Oneness, Zeroality. Fourness and everything above is different, except when patterned like the spots on ladybirds and…