Luna, Paloma by Ann E. Michael

 

rquiros

Luna, Paloma

 

I wanted a daughter, so in the first trimester of my second pregnancy

I lay in moonlight once a month invoking Artemis and Lilith

yin strength and the round egg of my womb.

 

In dreams an angel came to me saying she will be unlike you

and I agreed. In dreams the angel told me you cannot live through her

and I acquiesced again.

 

The angel said you know that she will leave you and I asked,

“Is this a test?” For I am myself a daughter, I know I cannot hold her

longer than she will stand for it.

 

Is that why you are weeping even now? the angel asked.

“No, I’m thinking of my mother,” I said to the moonlight,

to the empty room, to my daughter

 

who was cooing like a gray dove, suspended in the nest 

I’d constructed just for her.

 

First appeared in Ann’s collection Abundance/Diminishment

© Ann E. Michael 

Enjoy more posts by Ann E. Michael HERE.

Ann E. Michael

Ann E. Michael lives in eastern Pennsylvania. Her latest poetry collection (2024) is Abundance/Diminishment. Her work has appeared in Ninth Letter, One Art, Ekphrasis Review, and many others, as well as in numerous anthologies. She chronicles her writing, reading, and garden on a long-running blog at www.annemichael.blog.

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Bathing in the Moon by Lorraine Caputo

Cottonbro Studio

BATHING IN THE MOON

 

​Shadowed pines & robles

​against the royal sky

​Venus stunning in the depths

​of stars … & beyond

​the plutonian mystery

 

I await the full moon

to rise above

cragged snowy peaks,

tendrils of steam

drifting over the pools, over

boulders smoothed

by time,

my muscles

loosening in the hot

waters of this spring

 

​In this austral spring

​the eastern sky lightens

​with that Taurus lune

​nearing the horizon,

​our bright star

​reflected in the clear

​mineral pool

 

listening to the crickets,

the unseen river rushing

through the forest,

that moon so slowly rising,

Venus quickly sliding

away …

the steam tendriling

the water, tendriling

around me, into

my pores, to

my roots

 

​Luna now

​peeks between the boughs

​of the silhouette

​roble and pine,

​the vapors penetrate

​deeper, deeper,

​callouses falling away

Her light 

rippling now

across this warmth,

across this pool,

tendriling into my self

& Self 

Originally published in Lorraine’s chapbook, Notes from the Patagonia (dancing girl press, 2017)

© Lorraine Caputo

Enjoy more posts by Lorraine Caputo HERE.

Lorraine Caputo

Poet-translator Lorraine Caputo’s works appear internationally in over 500 journals and 23 collections of poetry – including In the Jaguar Valley (Dancing Girl Press, 2023). She is a Best of the Net and Pushcart Prize nominee. She journeys through Latin America, listening to the voices of the pueblos and Earth.

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Daughter of the Moon by Terry Allen

 

Carolina Basi

Daughter of the Moon

 

Lake Nokomis on an autumn day,

clear and sunny water,

bluer now after an early frost.

Jets fly low overhead,

 

roaring off to some exotic part of the world,

leaving Minneapolis far behind

to the mallards that swim nearby

to the couples out for a stroll

to the odd souls with metal detectors

sweeping for lost diamond rings or loose change

to lovers kissing under the Cedar Avenue Bridge

to dogs tugging at their leashes to run wild

to a spaniel caught for a moment in midair

as it leaps over rushes to splash in the water below

to the joggers, gracefully weaving

through children with scooters and skateboards.

 

A breeze blows in from the west

across the lake and caresses the back

of a runner in day-glow yellow sneakers.

She smiles at the reflected light of the moon

in the bright midday sky,

focuses on her breathing,

relaxes and bounds ahead,

sidestepping negative thoughts,

loving the cool air and the run itself,

that sends her rushing ever forward

to exotic places in her mind.

“Daughter of the Moon” was First published in Well Versed

© Terry Allen

Enjoy more posts by Terry Allen HERE.

Terry Allen

Terry Allen is an Emeritus Professor of Theatre Arts at the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire, where he taught acting, directing, and playwriting. He directed well over a hundred plays during his thirty-eight years of teaching. A few favorites include: Candide, Macbeth, Death of a Salesman, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, and The Threepenny Opera. He is the author of five poetry collections: Monsters in the Rain, Art Work, Waiting on the Last Train, Rubber Time, and Preserving the Past for the Present.

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Moon Haiku by Joshua St. Claire

Liam Bolduc

Moon Haiku

this moon

the first of all moons

indigo sky

 

just one skeleton

tree could shatter it

Mourning Moon

 

the fawn bones the cold moon

 

on the road

a stray tomcat yowling

through waning moonlight

 

this skull

under my skin

Leaflitter Moon

 

the moon after a cabbage white breaks in the scent of lightning

 

deepening indigo the moon takes shape

 

Bowstring Moon

the cry of a white-tail

echoes once

 

evening moon

deeper into the scent

of insects’ voice

 

slate sky

                the-all-at-once-but-not-enough of the streetlight moon

© Joshua St. Claire

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Joshua St. Claire

Joshua St. Claire is an accountant from a small town in Pennsylvania, working as a financial director for a nonprofit. His haiku and related poetry have been published broadly, including in Frogpond, Modern Haiku, The Heron’s Nest, and Mayfly.

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Full Moon Ceremony by Sharon SingingMoon

Luisclas

Full Moon Ceremony

 

called - we respond

rise up from our knees

from made-up lives

become our secrets

gather

in fields in woods

in circles of prayer

in gratitude

we know the one truth of us

through Grandmother Moon

a fire in the center of us 

each & each circle

the stones

sacred & our Mother's

as we are

 

our prayers - our bodies

hips called to dance as the oceans do

to the rhythm of Moon’s ancient truth

we drum

sing

laugh

renew our power

as we call each singularly

all as one

with voice & silence

 

our fire & drums alive

with being

the universe reaches 
receives us & our prayers

Earth rejoices

knowing we are here

 

our bodies

sacred & female

cedars & sycamores open to stars

bask in the silver light of Grandmother Moon

our dance

our drums

our songs

our entire existence moves

to set fire to the world

 

© Sharon SingingMoon

 

Sharon SingingMoon

Sharon SingingMoon is a poet, award-winning visual artist, and host of a monthly reading series, SPOKEN.  Sharon lives on the unceded ancestral lands of the Kickapoo, Shawnee, Ioway, Otoe, Delaware & Osage in what is now mid-Missouri.  She has been published widely in the US, the UK, and Europe.  Her recent poetry collections are Random Seed (Compass Flower Press) and The Weight of One Hummingbird Feather (Spartan Press).  She co-edited, with Jason Ryberg, Rough-Cut Elegies, An Anthology of Missouri Poets.  Her work has been nominated for Best of the Net 2025, a 2025 Pushcart Prize, and an Eric Hoffer Book Award.  

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