by Tobi Alfier
Early mornings, when the sun looked like sunrise
and sunset both, she’d go out walking. Continue reading
by Tobi Alfier
Early mornings, when the sun looked like sunrise
and sunset both, she’d go out walking. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Greg Nicholl
Coaxed by hordes gathering on the wall,
we changed plans, took a last-minute train Continue reading
by Meg Weston
For forty years I brought armloads of anthuriums
to the rim of a crater lake far from home, to curry favor
with a youthful goddess. Those sexy, heart-shaped flowers
with penis-like spadix, lay limp against the gaping black
of Halemaumau, hidden beneath a crust, hints of heat
in steam vents and cracks like etchings on the surface. Continue reading
by Janet E. Irvin
The hummingbirds have all but gone.
One last good feeding and they will chitter
goodbye, cock tiny heads, wing away. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Yvonne Higgins Leach
No man ever told her she couldn’t do it herself.
Nor did the female cartoon characters who
gleamed on the screen. Even Olive Oyl ate spinach.
With the same superhuman strength, she beat
every boy in the 100-yard dash in the 7th grade. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry