by Tim Murphy
For just a moment,
listen to the voice
that wants to call it
a war, that sees war as
something winnable,
even innocent, righteous,
no matter the innocence
left mangled in its wake.
Tag: writing
Love Beans
by Katie Coleman
Leena’s coffee mug perches on the counter, telling her, ‘You Are Loved.’ But then she withdraws her spoon and angles the mug to her lips. As she swallows, thoughts of far-flung jungles emerge, where coffee beans ripen, where buildings have fans, and local people sway as they pass by arms linked with elegant partners.
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From Above It All Looks Like Patchwork
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.
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.
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