by Karen Benke
On the walk home my son and I gather leaves.
At the kitchen table he colors them blue.
One by one, we tape them to the window
next to the pink snowflakes he and his babysitter make. Continue reading
by Karen Benke
On the walk home my son and I gather leaves.
At the kitchen table he colors them blue.
One by one, we tape them to the window
next to the pink snowflakes he and his babysitter make. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Lisa C. Taylor
When the whale dominates
the frame,
everything that isn’t whale
becomes insignificant. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Tom Gammarino
No one knew exactly why or how she died, but millions witnessed it in real time. Even though she didn’t breathe air, most agreed that she gasped at the end like a drowning victim. Queries of “Siri, what happened?” and “Siri, are you okay?” joined the hundred thousand others hanging in digital limbo. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Erik Moyer
It starts with a sinking feeling,
pennies slowly unpinched.
They pool like sentimentals
in a dented box, head hung
and eyes down, a pink slip
wadded in your pocket. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Elisabeth Murawski
They carry him up the mountain,
give him chicha to calm.
What is an honor? Continue reading
Filed under Poetry