Author: admin
CONFESSIONAL SELF-PORTRAIT: BEAST BY ELLEN PECKMAN
Posted by admin | Feb 17, 2026 | Visual Art | 0 |
CONFESSIONAL SELF-PORTRAIT: JEWELED BY ELLEN PECKMAN
Posted by admin | Feb 17, 2026 | Visual Art | 0 |
CONFESSIONAL SELF-PORTRAIT: POET BY ELLEN PECKMAN
Posted by admin | Feb 17, 2026 | Visual Art | 0 |
MONDAY LUNCH POEM BY SUZY HARRIS
My mother would eat cottage cheese and fruit —berries or a cut up apple—for lunch. Or a bran muffin with yogurt. She liked grapefruit, had special spoons for sectioning, saved the peels to dry and candy. Saved all those cottage...
Read MorePRAISE SONG FOR THE HEART BY SUZY HARRIS
Let us praise the heart, how it persists despite fluster. Our rugged heart, broken and healed many times over, and yet its daily work continues. Today is a day for cleaning out the garden bed. Already we wake in darkness,...
Read MoreMY BLUES BY SUZY HARRIS
My father comes every day, looks through the glass at me, in the incubator, so we can be together in our aloneness, later holds me in the palm of his hand where I gaze into his blue eyes, though I have no word for it. Our ocean...
Read MoreSUNDAY IN NOVEMBER BY SUZY HARRIS
The black walnut tree stands naked against an unseasonably blue sky. Migrating birds gone south, we are left with this: a rake, a shovel, a shift in time. Fig leaves, yesterday drooping like surrender flags, drop all at once,...
Read MoreA TRANSPLANT SAVED MY LIFE BY DR. JOHN A. WILDE
Posted by admin | Feb 15, 2026 | Non-Fiction | 0 |
Over my seventy-nine years, I have survived eleven surgeries. Two of these were kidney transplants; and without these miracles, I would have died over two decades ago. To say I’m grateful is woefully inadequate, but my existence...
Read MoreAS TIME GOES ON BY JEFFREY ZABLE
Yes, I do wonder if there is some sort of consciousness after we are gone. And as I just revisited a photo on my Facebook page of a long-time friend named Ray who passed away around three years ago, I’m wondering if he has any...
Read MoreFINAL WORDS ON THE SUBJECT BY JEFFREY ZABLE
Pulling into my driveway about 30 seconds before Ester— my 97-year-old neighbor—comes up pushing a basket with a grocery bag inside, I get out of my car and start a little conversation with her, and around two minutes in, she...
Read MoreINSPECTED BY NO. 37 BY ZAN BOCKES
You pluck my slip from the pocket of a new suit. You find “Inspected by No. 37” in your fresh linen blouse. You causally glance at my trademark, then toss it into the trash with the stickers, tags, and the little plastic ties...
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