by Cynthia Belmont
I lived in London for half my junior year of college and only spoke to my parents twice. It was the 1980s, before the internet and mobile devices, when you were truly on your own. Overseas calls were expensive, and I enjoyed crafting my life into hand-written letters featuring scenes that amplified its splendor. Continue reading
Filed under Nonfiction
by Taylor Schaefer
The Skimmer slips from the pier at dawn.
Your father’s hand-me-down sweatshirt sleeves
fisted at your wrists to protect tender palms from the chill
of dip net. Follow the line just under the surface, remember Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by David P. Miller
It took fewer days for him
to carry me home, lay me in the crib
than for me to carry him home,
place him on a bedroom closet shelf
among the bare clothes hangers. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 