by Natalie Crick
I lost six children here in the wood.
Even now, I see
bright hair flashes in pools of sun;
babies’ hair.
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Childless
Filed under Poetry
Thirty Years of Papa
by Kapena Landgraf
She touched nothing. Papa had died thirty years earlier, but Tutu refused to disturb what he left behind. His shirts still hung in the open closet—button-downs of light blues and whites pressed at the center with sharply ironed cuffs. Brown trousers, thick cotton and wool. Black shoes with silver buckles. Checkered neckties. Handkerchiefs tucked into the front pockets of blazers.
Filed under Fiction
Yukimitsu Monogatari
by John Gerard Fagan
Yukimitsu sat cross-legged by an unlit fire. The room was still except for a slither of light inching under the door. Tea bubbled somewhere out in the dark; the smell made his throat run and jutted him out of his dream-like daze. He coughed and his breath smoked. Longed for the days before he served at Court. Longed to hear her voice in the now silent rice fields.
Filed under Fiction
The Jaws of Life
by Laura Shaine Cunningham
For nine years, Len and Kit Callendar faced west. One morning they drove into their view.
Outside, in the predawn dark of Riverside Drive, Kit sat at the wheel of their car, motor running, while Len made several return trips up to 7B, to ensure that he had not forgotten anything.
No matter how hard he concentrated, his papers seemed to disappear as he looked at them, especially his own birth certificate.
Filed under Fiction
The Next Generation
by Cathy Allman
I pace in front of the mercury glass mirror,
hold her, try to memorize us,
if only a flicker. She’s surprised to see herself.
She studies our reflection
with those eyes that are like yours,
that are like mine in color and shape,
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 