by Khristy L. Knudtson I focused and realized your face has not looked this beautiful since I was a child and since I was your “Muffin.”I focused and realized your face has not looked this beautiful since it was illuminated in the middle of these crosshairs.The smooth, crescent moon of the trigger carressed…
by Frank Possemato Kilimanjarotowers over languageoutweighsforcing a nameto rise upto its own weight In New Hampshirethe Presidential RangeMount Washington of record-breaking windis our biggest(smaller onesnamed for smaller presidents)and before that is was namedfor the spirit in the stormand before thatit just was(a new name for each visitorAnd none on record)…
By: Patrick R. Roden There was a dense, low hanging fog forming on the grounds of the Maine State Prison in Thomaston. This time of year, late fall, was notorious for such occurrences. In a few weeks time, this entire lawn would be covered with blankets of fresh snow, but…
By: Joyce Kiefer When Ernie stopped to shift his pack on his long walk from the bus stop, he noticed the low fence that circled the house on the opposite corner. The way the rising sun angled in on that fence, man, he could see it was blazing with little…
By: Julie Worsham If I’m being honest I wake up each day filled with apprehension Am I the right one to do this job Am I capable of delivering this lesson? If I’m being honest I wonder if a day will ever come when I actually reach youYou staring back…
By: Kristal Peace More and more Often now, The oak tree in the center of Our yard inexplicably Begins to weep. Every day, for two weeks, Its branches sag, and its leaves cascade To the ground, like the stream Of a waterfall, drenching the entire lawn. But It is Summer,…
By: Adir E. Golan Maery MacTauthenach followed the fading footprints that stained the snow crimson. With each step the snow revealed a deeper, darker imprint. Bleeding. Maery padded faster. Whoever was injured had to be close, the dulled prints had changed from boots to narrow stretches of furrows. Crunching snow…
by John Grey I’m on the side of whoever is out there frolicking,whether it’s the otters like furry rolling pins in the riveror the young groundhogs darting from rock to rock,and whatever nibbles on something that beginsto grow back the minute it’s done feedinglike the deer or the hare or…
By: Jon Epstein “Baba!” my granddaughter Bailey hollers from the bedroom. “Can you go in?” I ask Kelly. I’d just sat in front of the fireplace with my first Saturday morning cup of coffee and an ice pack on my back. “She called for you,” Kelly defers. I pull up…
By Casey L. Covel Heroes don’t get sick Icons don’t need pills Warriors don’t have cricks Saviors don’t get chills Iron on my tongue Needles in my skin Asphalt in my lungs Anguish in my grin Fading like a spark Every breath a bid Cringing in the dark Smiling at…