by Nancy Machlis Rechtman She feels her way through the dappled landscapeCradling the memories of a time when it was filled with lightAnd hopeAnd dreamsInstead of this endless echo chamberOf lonelinessWhere she now resides. The sun has yielded to the moon’s prowessSinking slowly across the Western skyBut this is no…
By Benjamin J.Chase Always, my father standsin the gravel drivewayof whatever eveningI happen to be leaving. Smiling, he waves. He stands as if to sayeverything else can wait—he will be a father,even into the cold night.As if this were no departure.
By Benjamin J. Chase Sometimes I spend an afternoonon those half-padded seatsfacing glass panelsin the arrivals section,as if at the movie theater,to watch the droves of peopleentering my life. It’s cheating, I know, a way to stealan expectant glancefrom a stranger who might mistake me,for an instant,as a friend. But…