by Carol Casey The August sun has almost spun the straw to gold in the large stack behind the barn. We take turns sliding down its side, whooping in the earthy smell, the scratchy stalks tickling. Not sure why I go down backward, push off so hard. I land with a thump on almost…
by Chasity Gaines In the wide expanse of the mind, The innermost thoughts of Individuality Internal dialogue of self loathing A constant barrage of human flaws beyond control, a reminder of every wrong move, misstep, blunder Every wrong word, look, and deed. A struggle to balance the conscience and subconscious….