–Beach by Sue Harpham

What treasures
Churned by the ocean
And returned home.
Each tide
A patch of shade
A patch of shine
But alive
Tumbled in time
Forever

-Sue Harpham

Recovered from the Permian:
Sparse bivalves. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

Today, in the Gulf of Mexico, hypoxic
Waters foster a similar bounty.

Observed at Bempton: one black browed
Albatross: “Unlucky in love” according

To the local news.

-Peter Boughton

Polvo

A popular main course in Portuguese culture
Salada de polvo
Not to be confused with chicken salad
Polvo does not mean poultry
Translates to octopus
Found this out the hard way while out for dinner
It was a group setting
Ordered the dish without a second thought
When it arrived at the table, I was confused
The server clarified that the octopus salad was for me
My mouth replied thank you but my eyes stared at the table
Laughter and inside jokes came from my mistake

-Samantha Merz

Queen Carola’s Parotia on the Pergola

There was a gypsy moth massacre
Searching under decaying wood to get to the heart of contentment
Queen Carola’s Parotia on the Pergola
Reminiscent of a young European Paola
I heard news reports that it would be too windy for the vessels to dock
Ignoring the coarse-haired drummer
Into the virtual portal, longing to feel the sun again
Getting carried by Sunday schemes in your Chevrolet Blue Blazer
In the middle of doubting myself before speaking out
Overjoyed when I saw you outside the drugstore
I’m glad you’re grounded because I don’t want you to leave
Just know I’m wide for you

-Samantha Merz

Queen Carola’s Parotia on the Pergola poem published online at Grey Thoughts on May 25, 2019

Searching

A lone woman wanders sands
As Ocean licks her feet to taste.
Seagulls dip and scry, Ocean ponders human searching dunes, the wrack, her crabbed back, beseeching hand understood by oceans everywhere.

She nudges sea weed piles with a foot, listens to shells’ chime.
She looks for the child who left bare footprints in this sand long ago.
She finds her
self.

Naked as a just-moulted crab,
vulnerable to sun’s love. She longs to retreat deep into her shell.
To be thrown back
into the deeps.

-Rachael Ikins

-Don Oldham

-Paul Brookes

Rain Is Awake

when it falls
hits the snuggled earth
with wet caresses

Conscious movement
rippled determination
to move forward
once a route is found

knows it must find rest
a place to sleep
but other droplets insist
on movement forward

-Paul Brookes