by Gil Hoy On those windswept weekday mornings, asphalt driveway crusted with snow, my father would get up early, put on his secondhand boots and an old coat, and exit through our front door into the blue hour to get the motor running. That fifteen-year-old station wagon would stall if…
by The Poet Darkling It’s always been about the tea. Black. Sweet. Dollop of curdled milk. Everyone has a shop. and they know how you like it by reading your face. You take yours creamy strong sweet. In a back room, salty little fishes bubble in a cauldron over hot…
by Judith Ford It had started with the sparrows singing in the mock orange bush in her backyard. Anne loved to hear them calling out to the dawn when she’d first open her eyes in her bed, before the sun was all the way up, when there was a gray…
by Mindy Farmer Dear Dad, Grief came to me this morning. Not like it was yesterday. Not like 14 numbed by my reality – An unimaginable future without you. No, grief knocked softly, gracefully sitting beside me; Contemplation in a cup of tea. I wish I could offer her a…
by Yvonne Higgins Leach Be ready—the inevitable will come. In bewilderment when what you longed for didn’t come to be—a season ended too soon. In the dazed drama of hope’s departure— as she shrugs her anemic shoulders at you. In the capsized moment when your mind cannot bear the pain—and…
by Gonzalinho da Costa Morning steps forward, freshly washed, newly fed, tautly wound, a limber bow, Ready to spring, tumble, wheel, pull at oars, throw the hammer, leap the long jump, High kick, vault, cartwheel forward, lunge, Superman punch, elbow strike, grapple, Throw, bound, mount a motorcycle, zip, zap, round…