By: Arvilla Fee Building Bridges hand me a plank;I’ll hand you a saw;together we will builda bridge across this chasm;we’ll all be brothers and sisters,sweating together beneath a sunhung in the universe for all mankind,drinking water from our father’s wells;we…
By: Margaret Marcum Fifteen and afraid. I made my family go away.And I record the days carefully in mycomposition book, as if knowing givesme control over disappearing, as if I’m ascientist of my body observing the durationof its disappearance from…
By: Mike Turner I stand upon rough, worn wood deckSalty tang of sea spray upon my lipsEying starched white canvas arching aloft against azure skiesEyes burning and watering from the reflectionFeeling rise and fall of straining hull against rolling wavesCool…
By Taylor Dibbert Someone speaking loudlyOn the metroTrying to sound importantBeing obnoxious,It’s all so gross. ### Taylor Dibbert is a writer, journalist, and poet in Washington, DC. “Rescue Dog,” his fourth full-length poetry collection, was published in May.
By: Nattie O’Sheggzy ECHOES ON THE RIVER BANK The moon carries a lonely shadowof the fully fledged tree behind the gazebosentinel of the ebbing clouds in its bosombut all its head is gonethe distance between sight and flightthat distance is…
By: James Aitchison Why do we abandon thetrue essence of ourselves,and accept minds shutteredand shadowed?Why do we avoid the joyfulsoul and crave a life of limitations?Fresh and eternal transitionawaits before death.Take refuge in the quiet voicethat speaks within every soul.Plant…
By: Bruce Levine Every time I hear from an Old friend I think about my life Old Friends Years go byTwenty years – Thirty years – Fifty years And yet we pick up Like it was last week True friends…
By: Cheryl Snell Another Wrinkle in Time She’s prone to losing things. A tooth here. A word there. Her flesh still contains the memory of them, and yet they are lost. Fat tries to smother the memory and redirect attention….
By: James Aitchison They say that there isone more bridge to cross,always.You will never reach theother side,really.Now hear the Voice that speakstruth in your soul.Olive groves and roseswill sing by day.By the moon,orange blossoms.Pick the fruit ofthe soul.It will sustain…
By: George J. Searles HEARTENING IMAGE Feeling bad? Depressed?Here’s a little somethingto cheer you up. Picture your enemies, mottledas med school cadavers,fleeing through the public square, shrieking as they’re chasedaround and aroundthe ornamental fountain by muscular, whip-cracking,indelicate ex-offenders (or current…