by Khristy L. Knudtson I spend five days of my seven educating teenagers pretending I’m not an emotional delinquent with the same “mommy issues” as the boy with the overgrown yellow hair in the back row with the newly minted scars. He radiates pain like a nuclear bomb everywhere he…
by Christopher Hines It was a crisp October evening. The sun had just begun to set on the horizon and the sky was a mix of vibrant red and boorish gray. What leaves remained on the trees and lined the park had turned shades of oranges and yellows with some browns….
by Thomas Griffin Crinkle-leafed prongs of summerphlox poke out of snow amidstwhiskers of seeds on the noseof ragweed shafts crab tree with a few dark rubiesyet to dropporcupine of stripped quincehead snowed under half-the-moon crown tiltstoward black woods rosy waves of clouds backthe fading sun falling behind trees— everything looks…
by Amy Covel Fear can drive a man mad. Fear of failure and loss,Not of a loved oneOr a possession,But the selfish pursuitOf one’s own perfection. This test of fearIs passed by the manContent to earnAnd claim as his ownA monster’s soul. For monsters feel no fear,So why be human,Crippled…
by Kyle Heger Even in these fractious times, there are a few things we parents can agree on. First, to succeed in our society, a person needs good behaviors. Second, good behaviors are largely caused by good feelings. Third, to make sure our children grow up to achieve success, we…
by Thomas Griffin The fog will not leaveno sun ascendsmist makes the worlda road and the treesweep all day
by Rachel M. Patterson The ancient garden looks dead tonight, Darkness feeds it with her poison, It hums with ossified future light, A light the now appears frozen. . The promise of a flame in the morning, Hypnotizes the wandering mind, A ghosted tree heeds it’s warning, The gruesome remains…
by Adina Edelman I smell death. The stench isn’t unbearable; more like the lingering odor of a tuna sandwich left out too long. But it brings up a heavy feeling inside me, a sickening anticipation for what is to come. I stroll down the locker-lined hallway, my boots making no…
by Amy Covel My armor conceals A fractured heart Held together By nothing more Than a hope That home Is still waiting For its child To return A warrior.
by Kristal Peace Weaker than I cannot be She waits For me . To produce The pearls that Will save her Life, to silence The guns and stay The knife that . Ever approaches her Dawning cheek I reach, I try But I am weak. . And she cannot know…