Sculptor and Open Window by Charles F. Thielman
No wind for days, the webs collect mist. Rails unfurl strands of rust beside a river’s quiet, the friction of cloth on a mirror, current inscribing clarity on stone. Oak trees gray-sleeved…
Issue
Issue #1
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Beautiful October by Charles F. Thielman
So many trees flaring colors at their raucous retirement party-- yellows and reds and more amidst the green to dark green of fir, spruce, cedar. Squall-lines of rain-shower and gust soon peeling…
Solitude by Charles F. Thielman
She dons a robe of silence leaving the burn-pile of love. Reviewing her life-spread maps, embers spiraling down, she notes the junctures, the choices, hears again the crack of bets flung at…
A Painting, An Early Morning Walk, and All the People by Charles F. Thielman
Faces of this age, inbound, transit under city towers. Tip of paintbrush inside canvas rivers. My eyes wander in a white sky, drawn as human to our magnetic stutter, hands in pockets.…
The Gathering by Heather M. Browne
It started with the sun casting colors on the sand, sun tanned brown pointing cowry shells – golden baked An old seagull by the sea watches me collect a gathering of shells…
The Scents I Send to You in Heaven by Heather M. Browne
fireplace smoke rising morning coffee brewing old men's cherried pipes and trees Do you miss the scents of earth? fresh-cut grass after rain? salty ocean breezes? pink camellias? or my skin?
Unboxed by Heather M. Browne
I held her tight Her weight in my lap boxed to let her go gently Water & wind ready to embrace her The sun falling halfway Our metal casket gleaming mid-flight I…
Her Dream by Heather M. Browne
Her dream grew Too large Imagination spilling Filling her room Needing out Creeping upon its windowed reflection In pane Shelved dolls listening Hearing the dream’s gasp Unable to split the seam of…
Mermaid Dreams by Heather M. Browne
It started in dreams Wings giving way to tail Your scales growing in phases taking away more of you We wrapped your knees and ankles with ribbons first binding away your humanness…
Iona Campbell by Meredith Devney
To her children she was magic-- kneading flour and water into sticky loaves that rose on the window’s ledge, planting seeds that grew into plucked potatoes. Wrestling a chicken with one hand,…
Nice Work Guy by Gene Desrochers
Every morning he dipped his toast in his hot black tea. He watched the eddies of margarine, or whatever you called it, this new-age, healthy-for-you oil balance stuff, swirl, congeal into circles,…
The Egg by B.T. Joy
This morning slicing slices of bread into equal halves. Half-five and the light not yet flinging its handfuls of yellow rice on the fox-worried roads I took two eggs and cracked them…
Lenses and Breaking Free
Fish Eye, Telephoto, Microscopic, and Infrared lenses all deliver perspectives. Each particular lens frames our vision, revealing differing views of reality. If we could only perceive the world through a single lens,…
Stretched Across an Unmade Bed by C. Marecic
abandoned to another monotonous afternoon a sheet twisted—no, crumpled—and left to fend for itself against a lead gray sky and one more distracted communication that can’t quite overcome the settling of inertia…
The Dawn of Redwoods by Emily Strauss
a hundred million years they have stood silent giant immovable forces scarred black, lichened, swaying in storms lost beyond memory of any living being except bristle- cone pines on a distant peak,…
Ghost Moon by Emily Strauss
The moon appeared in the hot afternoon, a fraction of itself faded and tentative, the air shimmering in waves rising from the salt pan-dried lake whose glare offsets the hard crystals in…
Socks by Emily Strauss
to B. L. F. (1924- 2012) after the War a young man left the Carolinas permanently found a dirty desert oil town new friends brought his ways lost his accent wore long…
At the Statue of Kun Iam, Macao by Emily Strauss
At the statue of Kun Iam standing on a spit at the end of old landfill, obscured by the warm fog swirling over the dirty brown river a white female ghost goddess…
Blackberry Wine and Dreams by Nells Wasilewski
All was well, who was right and who was wrong was never an issue among our elite group. Agreements to disagree were reached and, every voice was heard. Cheap blackberry wine and…
Innuendo by Bill Vernon
Climbing up onto the truck bed, I didn't know what to expect, wasn't even sure what detasseling corn meant, but it paid $1.25 per hour, and the workers already in the truck…