Submission Guidelines: Send unpublished poems in the body of an email (NO ATTACHMENTS) to nvneditor[at] No simultaneous submissions. Use "Verse News Submission" as the subject line. Send a brief bio. No payment. Authors retain all rights after 1st-time appearance here. Scroll down the right sidebar for the fine print.

Saturday, May 04, 2024


by L. Lois

the chill in the air
means the glacier ravines
running down the peaks
jutting above the treeline
to the north
are vertical cuts of white

this bench sits low
comfortably leaning back
with the lake at my feet
the surface broken
by the gentle rippling
of the wind
a lone eagle circles
on early spring's
thermal winds
and the cherry blossoms
I passed on my way
are holding fast
in the lingering crispness

distant blue skies are lighter
coloring is calm
painted solid for peacefulness
rounded white clouds
perch as if to tell
the mountains where they should be

ducks scatter
when the Canadian geese
come in for a noisy
two herons fly by
to the west 
and their rookery's young

New York and Washington on fire
Trump's on criminal trial
Netanyahu plays chess with Hamas and Iran
Putin threatens Ukraine’s future
while Congress dithers on the eve of chaos
everything here
ignores our foolishness

L. Lois lives in an urban hermitage where trauma-informed themes flow during walks by the ocean. She is pivoting through her grandmother-era, figuring out why her bevy of adult children don’t have babies, nor time. Her poems have appeared in Progenitor Journal, In Parentheses, Woodland Pattern and Twisted Vine.