Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

By: Anthony Ward The moon sanctioned itself upon him as he stood defiantly against the wind, watching a moth drawn to the light of the bedroom window where she slept. He wondered whether the seemingly insignificant impulse of its fluttering…

Poetry

By: Alan Berger I have no answersI have no questionsI have not, nor I will find the road to blissNo matter the inspections But I have remedied this Do you notice things about you?Without being toldOr like meDo you have…

Poetry

By: KJ Hannah Greenberg Memories not Cancellations Cancel Culture did away with Mr. Potato’s head,Censored an epic picture show of the fallen South,From here to there, deleted tweetle beetle noodlePoodles, capsized monuments, likewise memorials,Similarly, smited abolitionist Hans Christian Heg’sLikeness. We…

News

The prestigious Tata Literature Live! The Mumbai LitFest was announced at the grand finale of the Festival, which was held from 18th to 21st November. As always, the four-day Litfest, presented online for the second consecutive year, was a huge…

Poetry

By: Vitalia Strait A pair of brown boots is all I have from you.Maybe they’re a little bit like the way you were,A tad scuffed and worn in, but beautiful too.I wouldn’t know; you wouldn’t let me remember. I unzip…

Poetry

By: K. A. Williams Deer In The Yard Some deer wereeating grass in my yard.I tried to take a picture,but the motion scared them.They leaped away.So fast.So graceful.So pretty.I hope they come back. ### Cat’s Visit I was going to…

Fiction

By: Wyatt Tune             Well, last night I noticed there was something wrong with the transmission. The car slurred when it moved, and all sorts of terrible metal noises had started coming out of the hood. There were the thumps…

Fiction

By: Robin Doody “Are you Michael?” Michael looks up from his phone just a little bit. He’s tall with brown hair that is longer on the top than it is on the sides—both spiked and combed. He has hazel eyes,…

Poetry

By: Elise Lerner I wake a life raftlost at sea. I pry my eyes openbut they spring shut.I march throughthe thick fog, of my soul. Fairies and goblinstaunt me, whisking awaylast night’s dreamseven after I beg themto stay. The only…

Fiction

By: Harvey Huddleston Elliot wanted one of those watches with the black round dial so Andrew told him to check out Jacks.  Sure enough, there it was at a decent price.  Andrew was always good for things like that. It…