Author: admin

Windowpane and bird collide. It’s not quite that particular thud. More a rock hitting mud. More your gaze shifting past my love.   Kelli Logan Rush lives in Winston-Salem, N.C., where she used to write for the tobacco...

  Go ahead, then. You go live in a decrepit turret. Buy a cabochon-encrusted comb and a $50 boar-hair brush. Coif a lot and bang a drum, eat loaves and plums and call yourself Allegra Folaam, glide around in pleated chiffon...

Unsettled, we described him, cousin Sam fresh out of Vietnam. He shucked his uniform, disparaged military obligation, swore he’d never again be obliged. Soon took off for parts unknown, no cards, no calls. He passed through...

I can tell by the pink tinge of sun washing my bedroom window bird shadows flitting through the lace curtains the joyful yaps of dogs leaping into cold morning air the smell of brewing coffee drifting lazily on warm house...

She speaks of her dead father, says he hovers about all night making sure her pills work, her door is bolted, the breakfast table is set. He’s big on details, reminders, notes she posted on the ‘fridge and swears she would...

I foist myself along the beach one step at a time gently disturbing the sand grains of time searching for Petoskeys my footprints washed away by the tide impermanently perfect   Jennifer Gurney lives in Colorado where she...

crystal clear memories of childhood snowstorm decades ago trapped in our house drifts of snow taller than him he hatched a plan removing the storm-door glass panel he shoveled a tunnel out through the empty space he became our...

I look up and see bird splats next to my second-story window how the hell am I going to find a ladder long enough to reach that here’s hoping for a hard, sideways rain sometime soon nature’s power...

New England’s arboreal extravaganza– a palette of russet, crimson & gold all of summer’s succulence on display before the fall when the risorius muscle after the last gasp wears a smile called rictus the body’s...

Once again the innocent die young, as rabid wolf packs roam across the urban landscape. People say this is the cost of borders, as if mercy is unaffordable, that brown-skinned humans have brought this ICE age to our country, to...

At the dojo, men and women in blue kimonos wield swords and long sticks (jos). A priest chants monotonously from the Sutras, punctuated by loud hand claps. Guttural shrieks erupt from sparring partners, as blades flash in the...

When the tracks of the bulldozer came ringing through the forest and the tops of the trees shook and fell from sight, when the scents of shattered boughs, the broken heart of the oak, and the fecundity of lacerated earth swept...