by Megan Munger
Lynnie, all you learn
on our visits are Grandpa’s horses
like saltlicks, have soft manes.
Grandma’s office, a typewriter,
she lets you play. Both of them
smile and hug gentle,
Dad Explains Forgiveness on Our Drive Home
Filed under Poetry
Cleave
by Amy Fleury
Back in the bed of our gone son’s begetting
we drift on the raft of our grief. You join
our fingers together, your wedding band
glinting in the rivering dark. My tears salt
your shoulder. Your whiskers catch my hair.
We have only endured a week of ever-after. Continue reading
Eye For An Eye
by Erika McKitrick
Remember the cemetery
the crypt, French theme
Gentle freckles
Me.
Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Fitted sheet
by Timothy Pilgrim
We’re making the bed
after the night of failure
not that it’s always like that. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
For a Limited Time Only
by Laurel DiGangi
Nathan was restless. He’d been waiting far too long with nothing to occupy his mind. No phones, zines, or screens. No landscape either: just an endless grassy knoll and sluggish queues of naked people extending to the horizon. The sun, or some other glowing orb, had not budged since he arrived an hour, week, or year ago.
Filed under Fiction
Hawaii Pacific Review 