by Aidan Coleman
The single candidate
your village wears.
A face to guess Continue reading
by Aidan Coleman
The single candidate
your village wears.
A face to guess Continue reading
by Michael Chin
1. When my grandmother finished War and Peace she started from the beginning and read it again, so entranced was she with the Russian aristocracy, with the Napoleonic Wars. With the green leather hard cover and its gold-trimmed pages. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Lowell Jaeger
Last night, snow swathed the meadow.
This morning we scroll the window shades
and trace nature’s busy history of trails,
hooves and clawed footfalls crisscrossing
acres blanketed white. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Lana Spendl
I walk into her office to give her papers
and she comes to mine to return them.
My walls are bare. Just a table, a chair.
Coffee pot in corner, next to a lamp
a coworker gave.
Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Jim McKenna
Surging down aisles, haphazardly
filing into their quarters: sardines packed
air tight and pressurized.
One takes her seat next to me, distinctly
and routined, pale overhead lighting
reflecting off of her young scales.
Continue reading
Filed under Poetry