by Tracy Covel I’ve never liked uncertainty and I hate indecision. I’d rather stay with absolutes and always with precision. Doubts they lead to sadness and sadness leads to pain. The odds are stacked against you if you choose to play the game. The glass can be half-empty, or the…
by Becky Earle I wanted to carry him everywhere, but His words wore a hole in my pocket,And before I knew it, the scrap of A notecard, rumpled and worn from Fondling, fell to the street at the Corner of Clark and Pine. The shadow that saw it fall Tapped…
by Ariella Neulander “Shall we take my Prius?” suggests my daughter. She thinks I don’t know why she’s asking, but I do. And I won’t have it. It’s bad enough that she’s decided to come with me to my doctor appointment; she’s not going to take over the driving too….
by Amy Covel It’s always just been meMyselfAnd INever youOr someone else I’ve lived life on my ownOn the edgeAll by myself‘Cause no oneCould ever keep upOr copeWith who I am I’ve started runningAnd I won’t stopUntil I dieBut no one can understandThis is my futureMy five-step plan But youdaredTo challenge…
by James Croal Jackson I walk this familiar streetof spring. Cherry blossoms, sunshine, the desireto drink. Yesterday I snuck into a fieldwith a flask to avoid the knife room Itell myself to stay out of. My longing a blackrolled-up rug. I tell myself Stay wound, trying howI can before I…
by Robert Steward Lisbon, Portugal 2003 “Um bilhete de volta para Cacém, se faz favor,” I said to the man in the railway station ticket office. “Cacém?” he asked, tapping away on his computer. He had a Benfica football badge on the lapel of his blue jacket. “Sim,” I replied. Next…
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…