by Bill Wolak
Transfixed by a Mirror of Dew
Read More »At the End of the World
by Aigerim Bibol
The world ended on a Tuesday morning. The flames danced higher as the sky was set ablaze with crimson red and smoky black, thick clouds of smoke billowing above. Amidst the chaos, Abigail and Henry clung to each other, watching as the world crumbled around them.
Read More »2 poems
3 poems
Fisheating Creek
by Patricia Asuncion
Dew’s coolness heightens anticipation as the canoe
slips into chocolate silk water like a slow, meandering
water snake coiling through cypress,
its tongue taking in all the primordial sensations.
Rain man
by Christian Ward
The consultant called me
rain man because I conjured
downpours every time
my medication was due.
3 paintings
Anniversary
by William Cass
Carl pulled on his brown cardigan, gripped his cane, and left the house. It was just after 6am, the charcoal sky ink-washed over rooftops to the east. At the end of the driveway, the old man paused. He looked to the left at the streets he’d grown accustomed to taking on his morning walks, then pressed his lips into a thin, tight line, blew out a breath, and turned right.
Read More »Rain, Fall
by Julia Anderson
There’s nothing like a drought to make you apricate the miracle that is rain.Read More »
Absence is
by Clara Burghelea
the hole that begs to be filled,
ragged around the edges,
the suck of air scouring the flesh.
Later, its ghost scar will bruise
the skin like an unfinished poem.
This poem will cock its head,
squint its eyes and settle into flesh.
One day it will slip out of your skin
and into the world and it will be hard
to explain it came from a place of erosion.
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