PoetryThe Stars Sigh by Penny Wilson
Moonbeams at my back I sweep stardust from my eyes Once inebriated with thirst with lust Now Firefly in a jar The once resplendent blaze feeble weak Longing for lustrous heavens To…
Section
From the Archives
Page 2 of 10
Poetry
FictionThe Compliment by Carolyn Geduld
Jill was startled awake by a sound. She sat up in bed, staring into the darkness. The blankets had been thrown aside. As her eyes adjusted, she could see them churned up…
FictionSit Down. Let Me Tell You a Funny Story. By Cynthia Pitman
I was only seventeen when I fell in love with a one-armed trumpet player. It didn’t take long. I met him. I fell in love. That quick. My older sister sang in…
PoetryUnder Summer Sun by William Kofoed
Standing under the hot summer sun on the asphalt too hot to touch start right here the boss does say two feet wide and four feet down you stare across the parking…
FictionDear Tomorrow by Kaye Spivey
You are a creature my tired feet are limping to capture, an awakening on the horizon as luscious as the sinking sun, bright and empty as the moon and her sad face,…
FictionBigfoot by Stephen Cooper
My knuckles turned white from the death grip on my axe. Chewy clutched his shovel like a bayonet. We squinted in the cold dark forest. The campfire cast long distorted images across…
PoetrySunflowers by Elizabeth Spencer Spragins
an unruly breeze tugs and teases golden braids when the sun flowers and her daughters laugh and nod meadows dance with mockingbirds ~Fredericksburg, Virginia
PoetryMost People Mow Their Weeds by Duane Anderson
In some neighborhoods, the home owners cut their grass, but in our neighborhood, most people mow their weeds. Some might call them invasive weeds, but to a few too many neighbors, they…
PoetryDueling Lawnmowers by Duane Anderson
They had matching lawn mowers. She mowed the front yard, and he mowed the back. It reminded me of the movie Deliverance where I first heard the song Dueling Banjos at the…
NonfictionAnniversary Flowers by Robert Rickelman
My father’s cancer was getting worse. He and I spent Saturday together to give Elise a break from the grind of caring for him. I arrived at 9:00 a.m., and she left…
PoetryA Boy No More by Keith Mark Gaboury
Over a rocket ship book, a preschooler I adore said the sky made the moon once sunrays smiled in a big blue hug. I love her logic. I’m told I’m on a…
PoetryNo life by William Kofoed
dark cold silence fills the land bright cold stars high overhead no breath of wind is there now long empty road lays ahead unwilling to leave the warmth behind safe in shelter…
PoetryI’ll never forget the lobster by Nancy K. Hauptle MacInnis
~ For Mark, one of my first boyfriends, who committed suicide after a long struggle with depression. I’ll never forget the lobster, it was tradition long before you ever knew I existed,…
PoetryUnsweetened by Linda Sacco
The bees will lead you to goodness. They will grant you mercy against wickedness. The path they show you is steeped in evil, careless hearts, wrapped in walls of arrogance that live…
PoetryFor Paul and Sammy by Chloe Jackson
My dreams are littered with the echos, the flaming shards of iron that flew from the feverish hammer and anvil of your hands rough and dark like leathery tobacco; Your rock salt…
PoetryIn the Silence of a Drive Home by Candice Kelsey
What is love you ask while drying dishes. is this an act of love there can be love in each room of the human heart where years of sheets shambolic catalogue each…
FictionThe Gift by Clive Aaron Gill
Ernie Sherman, an eighty-year-old widower, sat on a bench near the beach in Oceanside, California. The summer sun dispersed the morning mist. He enjoyed watching small fishing boats float over the kelp…
FictionMy One Regret by Shannon Hollinger
I probably shouldn’t have killed her. I know that now. But at the time, it felt like I had no other choice. I’d take it back if I could, but I can’t.…
FictionThe Old Cedar Chest by Patricia Rossi
It was strategically positioned in the eaves of the attic, wedged between the rafters, yet easily accessible to the adjoining rooms of the center hall Cape Cod, my beloved childhood home, built…
FictionThe Metaphor by Bruce Levine
The last embers died in the hearth. Charlie had been sitting there, staring for hours as the crackling logs reduced to twigs and then to lumps like coal and finally to embers,…