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 Caroline Maun If I was showing you the house,I’d be sure to mention the century cactus,no longer there, that sent up its flagpole-sized stamenbefore collapsing under its own weight. I’d point outthe royal palm that started to fruit in 1973, and howwe had to axe open the hulls on…
