by Daniel Donaghy
Winding through the aisles
with my oversized cart,
I smile at everyone:
the pink-haired stock clerk
bobbing to a song streaming
through her AirPods; Continue reading
by Daniel Donaghy
Winding through the aisles
with my oversized cart,
I smile at everyone:
the pink-haired stock clerk
bobbing to a song streaming
through her AirPods; Continue reading
by Scott Ortolano
The shadows cast by the tall trees seemed to mock them with the illusion of coolness in the simmering Florida afternoon. A constant drone of singing cicadas, or what his Uncle Rupp called a swamp chorus, was only broken here and there by the rustle of lizards startled into saw palmettos by this pair of mid-afternoon intruders. Nothing else stirred—or would for hours. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by M. Anne Kala`i
I.
Mother didn’t teach me how to garden.
She taught me to pack up a house
after the water turned off,
then the lights. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by John Grey
Behind the mist,
beyond the window, the forest,
body murmurs, refutes the
sleepy council of its dreams,
waits to be peeled apart
by an engaging fingertip.
Morning–sun so light and equal to
whatever task I give it–
and I think of the man with everything. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Mikayla Maeshiro
Aches linger in my always-not-young-not-old
Body as time tick tick ticks on the blaring
Clock, waiting for every feeling to numb
Down so I can return to the
Earth, a sense of innocence and a
Feeling of satisfaction that can
Grow from the roots of my what-ifs,
Have-tos, and false needs. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry, Young Writers Edition