By: Joan Carol Bird Peru The curator lingerson monastery steps—restoration renders fourfanciful touristsfortunate voyeursin this sixteenth-century cloister.Besides the hermitall life here is for the moment banished.Our monk ushers usfrom one macabre chamberto anotherlocking ghostly elements in placebehind us.Cedar wood reliefs…

By: Pat Spencer Security at our school was not good—no gates, alarms, or play yard monitors. Soweto could be a dangerous place for a child. Yet, the teachers didn’t care where we went or what we did once we left…

By: David Francis The Bridge You were the one step further, you were the bridgeyou led me out to blue sky from a ledge I called out to a friend along the wayand I confessed to him my sorrow-lay yet…

By Nolan Janssens      As the engine gurgles grow louder, Ron’s memories gush into the present. He can smell his son’s floral, sweet hair from when he used to rinse it in the bathtub. He can hear his wife’s heaving…

By: Diya Wadhwana Evoke the light withinWhich never got shone,Road to cross; without sinThat we all walk alone. Some plains to walk,Some highways to lift,Some valleys to blockYet pass them without drift, Vehicles might knock you down,Stay away; from them…

By: Glenn John Arnowitz I traded in my wife’s “cancer card” for a DW card, or “dead wife” card. Let me explain. In 2014, I shared Susan Guber’s irreverent piece in The New York Times, “Living with Cancer: Playing the…

By: Glenn John Arnowitz      As I slowly faded away on the couch with the T.V. blurring to white noise and Aurora’s, our 13-year-old Maltese, furry back arched against my leg, Sue whispered softly into my ear, “Why don’t you…

By: Gaither Stewart Max and Greta agreed that everyone needs two main dramas in their lives, one in their public life, and the other in their private space. Max said that his public drama as a well-known, politically committed journalist…

By: Kate LaDew after reading and not understanding a word I hand the poem back, nodding, yes, yes, exactlyand it seems enoughas it has always been enough for meanother human voice saying yes, yes, that’s it exactly ### you talk…

By Copper Rose See Ellen get up in the morning and go to the kitchen to make coffee? She is complaining that no one loves her. At least not in the way she would like to be loved. See her…