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 Casey Dare the smooth bore, breech-loaded, single barrel shotgun bangs an answer to the whispered questions— why do they fight? why does mama cry? is he still hitting her? Why won’t someone help us? cold December night lit by lights on the evergreen trees, blues reds whites blinking…
By Gil Hoy When I was in Charlottesville studying the law. Where the vestiges of racism Were carefully hidden under a rug. Its stain absorbed by the wise, aging wood Or swept away by a black, hopeful janitor. He diligently cleaned Jefferson’s hallways and bathrooms So that one or more…