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 Janice Vasko In the heat of battle accidents happen. Decisions are made amongst chaos, never to be undone, and orders are hastily carried out by loyal sailors. Such is the fate of the unlucky. The infant American colonies were fighting for their very existence. The war raged over land…