Lives lost,
shattered,
like the surface of a placid pond
after being struck by a stone.
The tranquil surface is disrupted
by ripples of pain
that go out
and out
and out.
Alas, serenity cannot be reclaimed
by throwing another stone
but only by waiting
for time to perform its magic
and smooth the surface
once more.
More from Issue #2
Breasts by GF Boyer
Heavy handbags I'd rather not carry, beckoning men I don't want to attract, intended for babies I'll never have. Back pain inflicters, cancer hostesses— I never liked them, and now even less.…
Golden Hour by Rhonda Parrish
Light turns to honey, and molten halos surround each blade of grass, and leaf on the tree. Gnats transform to flitting fairies and croaking frogs to a choir.
The Quick Brown Fox by GF Boyer
He jumps over a lazy dog—that's what starts the whole thing off. Now the dog's in mad pursuit, not so lazy anymore. The fox had a good head start. He's just teasing…
Sunday by Nicholas Thacker
It was complete silence. As those who uphold a culture formed on the basis of traditional values filed into coffee shops one by one. This would be the only day so many…