by Doreen Beyer
A small fire feeds on fruit boxes,
warming arthritic bones made cold
under forty feet of sea. Continue reading
by Doreen Beyer
A small fire feeds on fruit boxes,
warming arthritic bones made cold
under forty feet of sea. Continue reading
by Bill Hollands
Close your eyes as the ridges
tick by under your fingertip.
Wherever you land you go,
do-overs allowed, as many
as you like. Madagascar, Nepal,
Suriname, Chad – I always
wanted Chad. I knew
nothing about it. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Jim Kraus
Past the line of stones,
watch out for the kiawe, its thorns.
Then run across the hot sand Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Trish Annese
I meet M. in Prague on a lonesome Sunday in March as I chase a lost turquoise scarf down an asphalt alley and she retrieves it, stepping from the recesses of a darkened doorway—a mistress of ceremonies stepping into the spotlight—and restoring it to me with a flourish.
Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Nancy Dickeman
There is an atomic land along the crook in the river
where reactors’ shadows
once traced the Columbia’s currents. Continue reading