by Eliza Astère the skies of June are tied to my heart with a dainty silver stringeach grey cloud misty on her owngrieving the loss of the earth as it was knownwhile silver linings flourish like flowers deep in sorrowso goes my gloom, in a promise:may the hopes yesterday guide…
by DC Diamondopolous Pa decided to join the Bonus Expeditionary Force. After dropping Ma and the youngsters off at Uncle Vernon’s, he let me ride the rails with him from our home in Waynesboro, Pennsylvania, all the way to the Washington Freight Yard. Pa and thousands of other veterans were…
by Trish Annese I meet M. in Prague on a lonesome Sunday in March as I chase a lost turquoise scarf down an asphalt alley and she retrieves it, stepping from the recesses of a darkened doorway—a mistress of ceremonies stepping into the spotlight—and restoring it to me with a…
by Meri Parker Camp, near Saratoga, New York Oct. 18, 1777 My dear Frances, I finally have joyful news to share with you. After 33 days of fighting and bloodshed, General John Burgoyne has formally surrendered to our General Horatio Gates, after requesting a ceasefire five days ago following his…
by Jim Kraus Past the line of stones,watch out for the kiawe, its thorns.Then run across the hot sand to the cool water,its soft, long syllable,line after line, vast ridgesof golden sand, each grain now a unit of money.Portable real estate,the beach a mint to be mined and exchanged. Sand…
by Joseph Dehner “Be the best,” John’s father told him on his tenth birthday. But then Dad injected a correction that would burrow like a parasite into John’s memory. “What I mean is, John, be the best that you can be.” John ripped off the gift wrap and gushed, “Wow,…
by Caroline Maun If I was showing you the house,I’d be sure to mention the century cactus,no longer there, that sent up its flagpole-sized stamenbefore collapsing under its own weight. I’d point outthe royal palm that started to fruit in 1973, and howwe had to axe open the hulls on…
by V.J. Hamilton Blue was on the bottom. The popsicle was red on the top, pointed like a rocket; white in the middle, the cylindrical fuel tanks; and blue on the bottom, where its mighty boosters would achieve lift-off. Gigi’s tongue, that slick primordial muscle, rooted around for blue. She…
by Abby Caplin A doctor only pretends to understandthe soul’s transmissions through the stethoscope,the placement of bell and drum on bare chest, simple human breath comingling with clicksof worry, raspings of self-reproach, the unpredictablebeat of chronic confusion. The details don’t matter when loneliness is undone,and the siren I hear through…
by Cathy Bown There in the passenger seat of my uncle’s old red Ford pickup was where the truth finally hit me. As I gazed out the dirty window at the golden country around me, I could see tall oak trees bursting with autumn foliage just waiting to return to…