by Nancy Machlis Rechtman He told me that my eyesWere stars twinkling in the nightAnd when he kissed me he murmuredThat my lips were the sweet petals of roses. My heart became the flutterOf birds’ wings soaring through the treesAnd his wordsWere the silky balm on my wounded soul. “Your…
by Ann Marie Wilson-Crockett begins, my legs leaving the warm cocoon of my comforter leading my drowsy feet to the floor. Opening the bedroom door, cats greet my waking, anticipating the clang of the spoon against the tin announcing their tuna and chicken delight Walking upstairs I start calling names the…
by Ann Marie Crockett You wouldn’t think that a bad hair day could go so cataclysmically wrong. Is it possible that a 9-year old can be the fodder, the ignition switch for a middle-aged woman to completely lose her mind? Fifteen minutes in front of the mirror, 5 minutes past…