By Keith Burton i was stretching my legs on the littoralgiving names to the shapes of the cloudsthat swam across the lake’s reflectionwhen trouble came crawling on eight legs. help me across he asked with a period. i knew better; i had an owl’s acuity.no can do, i know you…
by Shellie Richards Harold Epstein sat on the edge of the examining table at the podiatrist’s office but he may as well have been sitting on the edge of a canyon. In his mind, he could hear the ominous cry of the predatory hawk as it circled around. His career…
