by Carol Casey The August sun has almost spun the straw to gold in the large stack behind the barn. We take turns sliding down its side, whooping in the earthy smell, the scratchy stalks tickling. Not sure why I go down backward, push off so hard. I land with a thump on almost…
By Joanne Eskreis Voices spoken to us through their love Echoing from the heavens above Sounding laughter from within their tears Envelop us through all our fears. Reaching out through the never ending sky Comforting us whenever we cry This is where true comfort lies Hearing voices from heaven through…