Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Month: September 2021

‘Effort’ and other poems

By: KJ Hannah Greenberg Effort Investing in skill building is advantageous to Andean condors whileOperating paths to working past setbacks exist, except for nest building.In such cases, finding answers to remarkable troubles excludes almost allVulture-sought solutions via creatively prepared twigs,…

Sunflowers

By: Christian Ward The afternoon where I discovered the word dying began with something simple as sunflowers. We had been touring the French countryside in the morning, visiting old vineyards and cellars and decided to eat lunch opposite a field…

Worlds Apart 

By: Sheila Henry I believe I may have found the man, who can change my life in many ways. I look forward to experiencing him, Apple thought as she sat on the vanity gazing longingly at her image in the…

Until Now

By: Bob Kalkreuter He’d finished his third drink before she told him she was leaving. “What?” he said, startled. They were sitting at an outdoor café, the late afternoon sunlight scrabbling over the cement in pursuit of retreating shade. She…

Passing the torch

By William T. Hathaway The baby-boom generation is ending its lap in the human race, and the Fridays-for-future generation is beginning its run. Generational shifts of power are symbolized by the image of passing the torch, but now what the…

‘Deliverance’ and other poems

By: John Muro Deliverance Wind gusts, strong enough to lift small boats fromThe surface of water, are pelting piers and hasteningThe undoing of long-leaning trees; shredding thickHedgerows in such a way the lower leaves tangleAnd spin like minnows in shallow…

Pillow like a Parachute

By: Harrison Abbott      My elder brother Pete asked me to look after his four-year-old kid and I really didn’t want to but I had to accept because he had no other option. I reckon Pete must’ve asked a whole…

Last Night

By: Anthony Ward A hoot from his phone woke him up. It was a tawny owl notifying him that a message had materialised. He picked up his phone while trying to wrench his eyes open. He was so tired that…

Kafir

By Balu Swami The day after the bombing, I got a call from Rahman whom I hadn’t seen or heard from in years. He had been a good source for me for a number of years. He was one of…