by Nancy Machlis Rechtman He told me that my eyesWere stars twinkling in the nightAnd when he kissed me he murmuredThat my lips were the sweet petals of roses. My heart became the flutterOf birds’ wings soaring through the treesAnd his wordsWere the silky balm on my wounded soul. “Your…
by Gil Hoy When you’re a bottle 29 years go by fast, Not necessarily so for a little girl. Through Hurricane Hugo The whipping winds The crashing rain The stones that missed You, you survived intact to tell the tale of an 8 year old girl who walked along the…
by Steve Force Carola awoke just as dawn was breaking. She could hear Cesar, her husband, on the other side of the curtain that separated the sleeping area from the rest of their one room home. He was moving about in the cooking area. She could smell the strong dark…
by Nancy Gerber It was a perfect day for the beach, the sky a cloudless powder blue, sand like blanched almonds, sea the color of smooth, green silk. Rows of white lounge chairs stood side by side, shaded by large, turquoise umbrellas. In the distance a gull dipped toward the…
by Kathryn Brown Ramsperger 1946, Beirut. France grants Lebanon its independence. Today we are to go down to the water. Each trip is a special occasion. I can already feel the aquamarine surf as it breaks on the sand—not quite waves, more than placid ripples. It will hit my skinned…
By Heather Browne Come play with Me here in the surf O my soul Come splash in the edge of my tide soft foamy white tickling toes covering feet lapping your sand castle designs Kick up my sand as you twirl as you dance cartwheeling wind by your side Find…
By Jeremiah Bass “What’s the first thing you remember about the dream when you wake?” Dr. Fischer asked. “I remember the heat radiating off the sand,” I tell him just like I tell him every week when we talk. “Why does the heat seem important?” “It’s so intense that my…