Featured Writing

a statue of an angel appears to be blowing clouds into the sky from a horn

The Angel

By Phibby Venable An angel was perched delicately on the straight back chair in the corner, but everyone pretended not to see her. At least it appeared that way to fifteen – year old Katie, who couldn’t take her eyes off the golden wings and slim figure. “Mama, don’t you…

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Lonely Brook

By James Rushmore The waxing moon balances on the pine. Lonely brook meanders through the scrub brush, The mayflies hatch without mouths; No need to Eat; But just to make love without kissing. The June night befalls the fallen fish mine, The honey bees sleep, the petals close; lush. A…

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