By: Christine Jackson Key West spins away from a mainland where it has never fit. My life no longer fits. My mind roams where trees with silver leaves rustle in dappled light, kestrels cry, and lemon air soothes the yearning in…
By: Christine Jackson Like you, last night’s rain had moved on leaving me stranded in a dawn mist. My terrier nudges me into the day’s walk. We pass a wrought iron fence still coated with rain, and a row of dripping…
By: Ian Fletcher He sits across from me his coffee on the table cell phone in his hand surfing, tapping messages to who knows whom my ephemeral companion on the express train. Portly, middle-aged he appears neither happy nor sad an…
By: Kimberly Potter Kendrick Jump up, fall down Hold on, hang on, losing grip Caught in spiraling vortex No way out, no hand to reach They vanished, world departed Unknown reason, why the chosen one Unidentifiable horrendous act or a…
By: Zunayet Ahammed You are a symbol of beauty You are more than the stars of the sky more than the clouds, the fragrance of roses the blue of the sea or the sparkling beauty of the dancing brook You…
By: Timothy Naslund Late December chills persuaded our ears further into our coat collars. Our extremities screamed inward with frozen numbness cries to our legs to pedal us into a direction of some place warm and well equipped to inebriate the…
By: Hasu Leal There was once a little girl named Lily Allen. She had big, brown eyes like her father, thick, brown curls like her mother and beautiful, brown skin like her peers. Every night, her mother would tuck her in…
By T.Y. Euliano Physiology, pharmacology, toxicology…kill-me-now-logy. First year of medical school finally over, Emily left Boston with a full brain, empty pockets, and a desperate need for salt air and decompression. Her parents still in Europe, she had the house…
By: Holly Day Every once in a while, I make the mistake of wondering what it’s all about, if there is any point if I really belong to this vast, blackness of universe if removing this one microscopic piece that’s…
By: Holly Day The trees grow close to the old house, reach out with blossom-stippled limbs as if trying to remember. There are bodies buried beneath the layers of stucco and drywall, a skeleton built up of skeletons stolen from a…