Showing posts with label Balance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Balance. Show all posts

Saturday, June 14, 2025

Rustling Reeds by Diane Allerdyce

David Dibert


Rustling Reeds  

Rustling reeds at the edge of the water

teem with wildlife that is invisible 

in the undergrowth—filtered with sunlight

and not all that quiet when one listens

 

to the negotiations, the barter

going on beneath the surface, quibble

and exchange economies of trade, bright

ambitions of amphibian glistenings.

 

Above the rustle, the lake’s gentle waves

may belie the complexities below,

inviting us to stop and consider

 

worlds otherwise unseen, those inner caves

beyond the surface so that we might know

soft rays of compassion growing nearer.

 

© Diane Allerdyce


Enjoy other posts by Diane Allerdyce HERE.



Diane Allerdyce

Diane is a poet, professor, parent, partner, grandmother, musician, yogi, and caregiver for whom poetry is a balm for the soul. Her poems have appeared in TheGroundUp, Reflections: Narratives of Professional Helping, the chapbook Whatever It Is I was Giving Up, and the collection of prose and poetry House of Aching Beauty.
Her story “The Gift” appeared in the North American Review (Fall 2019: 304.4: 43-50). (It was inspired, in part, by Wallace Stegner’s “Goin’ to Town”; an interview about her process appears at https://northamericanreview.org/open-space/conversation-diane-allerdyce-discusses-her-story-gift-her-partner-rory-spearing ). Diane’s short story “Kochma” appeared in Stories that Need to be Told 2022: A TulipTree Anthology; it was also the first-place winner in the UK-based National Association of Writers and Groups (NAWG)’s 2022 Open Competition for Fiction and was republished with permission in their 2022 Anthology of Award-Winning Writing.

Monday, December 16, 2024

Balances by Mykyta Ryzhykh

 

Image | Eva Bronzini


Balances


the silence of the water
the reflection of the cherry blossoms
balancing between
war and war

outside the broken
window, you can hear
the songs of birds

as if no one had died

night takes the sleeping soldiers
into its womb

a boy washes in the rain
near the ruins of a house

in childhood everything is black and white

I still can’t sleep sometimes
and monsters crawl out from under the bed

This poem also appeared in O:JA&L; Open: Journal of Arts & Letters

© Mykyta Ryzhykh

Enjoy more posts by Mykyta Ryzhykh HERE.


Mykyta Ryzhykh

Mykyta Ryzhykh, an author from Ukraine, now lives in Tromsø, Norway. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2023 and 2024. He’s published in many literary magazines іn Ukrainian and English:
Tipton Poetry Journal, Stone Poetry Journal, Neologism Poetry Journal, Shot Glass Journal, QLRS, The Crank, Chronogram, The Antonym, Monterey Poetry Review, Five Fleas Itchy Poetry, and many others.

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