by Carol Casey The path is trodden, dusty, level.You know it will take youwhere many have gone. Step off—tangles of brambles,sometimes with blackberries,more often with little clawsthat catch on clothes and skin;and tortuous tree roots—inconvenient, sacred data unearthed—subterranean snakelets somehowsifted into snarls for feet to catch.There are stems that twine…
by Amy Covel Don’t let your dreams die You see, people will kill your dreams They don’t mean to They’re simply using words Voicing opinions Sometimes they’re just having a bad day A bad hour, a bad minute But that bad second Changes you for a lifetime But it’s just…
by Renata De la Cruz Monteón Night starts; leaves, branches dancing with the wild wind while crickets sing love songs.