by Nancy Machlis Rechtman She feels her way through the dappled landscapeCradling the memories of a time when it was filled with lightAnd hopeAnd dreamsInstead of this endless echo chamberOf lonelinessWhere she now resides. The sun has yielded to the moon’s prowessSinking slowly across the Western skyBut this is no…
by Lisa Harris Perhaps you see a globe: You think, a world is round; a world spins. Continents are misshapen feet, and all around them lies blue water, the color of a Scandinavian’s eyes. Perhaps you see a million faces, a blur of non-photogenic humanity, a smear of intention, like…
by Gil Hoy Sometimes in today’s America The rights of rioting white supremacists trump the rights of black football players kneeling Peacefully, holding hands. And for some particularly wealthy Tweet bosses, The earth is not Warming, forget the ship-wrecked Mexican American and there is no community of man. The earth’s squirrels …
by Rodger Martin In the pressure of the fuselage, at this height I’ve become Jeopardy host pushing scripts for an audience no one sees. Science for one thousand. My portal turns microscope, its double panes a slide and the Earth out there, holy in its ghost of curve, demands comprehension….