by Taya Wynn
Sometimes I still am the child who never cried:
both brand new and weary
screwing fists into white-knuckled pacifiers
seething with anger
before she could even comprehend what it was.
Category: Words
2 poems
The Meaning of Hockey
A short story about the warmth of the ice rink
by Marie-Eve Bernier
I never cared for hockey. Sure, as a Canadian (truthfully, more of a Québécoise), I was aware of hockey but failed to appreciate its beauty and never quite understood its meaning. I would continue to be oblivious about it for far too many years.
Read More »on littleness
1
3 poems
dearest one
Seed
by Kylie Wang
Boom.
The creatures in the underbrush scattered as another tree fell, her arms cracking when she hit the ground. The giant had stood tall and proud despite— or rather because of— her age, with her leaf-crowned head facing up to drink in the sunlight, but that didn’t change the way she keeled over and collided with the forest floor: heavy, like a vault door slammed shut.
Read More »Duty
by Shamik Banerjee
And weeps the river when the parting year
Deprives him of the sunbeams’ waltzing flame;
And tears the father as the time draws near
When his dear girl will take another name;
Read More »Quote of the Week, #13
And I say to myself: a moon will rise from my darkness.
– Mahmoud Darwish
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