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 Thomas Griffin If only I could throw myself into this black sleet rushing down street, hugging the lip of the curb, dashing down the hungry mouth of the culvert hurtling through sudden darkness into the roar of a thousand other streams fleeing this steely-eyed November in New England— run…
by Aneesh Shukla Twilight was beginning to fade and the dark of night settling in. Aneesh leaned against the open doorway of the balcony, watching the sky, waiting for the stars to light his way. Behind him, he heard Maitri humming softly as she soothed their son to sleep. The…