Literary Yard

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Archaeology/HistoryEssay

By James Aitchison Germany between the wars.  The Weimar Republic replaced the old monarchy.  In the golden 1920s, Berlin became a glittering world city, a melting pot of culture and counterculture, of science, philosophy, art, design, architecture, music, film and,…

Poetry

By: Paul Dickey What to Make of a Night? As I walked to your house,I tried not to get old.I concentrated on whatI was supposed to:the wine, the walk,what I would say to youwhen you greet meat the door and…

Non-Fiction

By: Daniel Acosta, Jr. Preface After graduating from the University of Texas with a degree in pharmacy during the height of the Vietnam War, I was able to get a draft deferment to attend graduate school at the University of…

Poetry

By Michael Lee Johnson Trail of Tears in the Snow Footprints in the snow, fresh.Will your divorce lawyers talkto Jesus this night—set me chain-free.Set you on your traveling ways.Searching, we’ll both be curiously searching.Even hell has its standards burn with…

Fiction

By: C.A. Broadribb Theresa surveyed her herd of 600 cattle as she sat on top of a hill, sipping on a glass of wine.  Her favourite red-and-white Hereford, Dot, wandered up to nuzzle her hand. “Hello, darling,” she said, stroking…

Poetry

By: Lahari Mahalanabish The seamen swing,in fatigued, fevered relish of the cradling in infancy,couched in their threadbare hammocks,the ship plunges into the reshaping trough of wavesspooned towards the sandy dash with a green rumpleon the horizon, to fill in the…

Poetry

By: Bruce Levine Counting snowflakes As winter lingers Framing the landscape Like the sash of a window Frames the glass panes Divided lights Outlining snowdrifts As the lines on a calendar Divide months into weeks and days The season progresses…

PoetryWellness

By: Cynthia Pitman i. The Predator and the Prey: Severe Depression Agony prowls the streets tonight,seeking easy prey.My gnawing hopelessnessputs me at risk.I have sought refuge,but all doors have slammed tight.Thus I, too, crawl the night.From bin to bin,I hide…

Poetry

By: Carl Papa Palmer We watched birthdays of our grandsons in Nebraska this year,watched from Washington those there singing Happy Birthday,watched the boys blow out candles, watched them open gifts,watched those there get hugs and kisses which we most missed….

Fiction

By: Ryan Howarth He mops his stomach with a sock, gets up from his bed and goes into the bathroom. His reflection antagonises him with shame. The expression shifts to delight. He’s impressed with his physique today. In the shower…