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 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 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…