by Lisa M. Gott Heavy clouds creep acrossforgotten lands — a storm is coming,blowing the tumble weedsof my own destructionacross the never-ending fieldsof a place once called home. Parched, the soil cries out,O, clouds, rain down on me,wash away this decay so that blades of glory may rise up and reachtoward possibility. Blackness circles — a…
by Debbi Harris Camille Portaine was reckless in her vanity, not subtle at all, which might have made it more palatable. Her teeth shown white and pearly, but the smile itself was rather dark, often tinged with disdain. Friends were accessories, like gemstone-encrusted headbands, sky-blue eye shadow, and designer handbags—accoutrements…