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 Amy Covel It’s always just been meMyselfAnd INever youOr someone else I’ve lived life on my ownOn the edgeAll by myself‘Cause no oneCould ever keep upOr copeWith who I am I’ve started runningAnd I won’t stopUntil I dieBut no one can understandThis is my futureMy five-step plan But youdaredTo challenge…
by Angela LeBlanc The wind whistles hot against the dry red rock, lashing through dry leaves that cling. Words— gasping for life, suffocated and trapped. Talons scrape the clouded horizon: pinks invade yellows, slash purples. Desperate for distance—flight. Running, breathless and terrified from the truth. Arid color splashed across the…