by Karen Walker Moonrise as he turns in the driveway. The old Chevy’s headlights scan the bedroom wall, a lunar landscape scarred by everyone who’s rented this shabby place. Down the hallway, the bathroom nightlight is a weak little star. It fades as he closes the door—damn toilet will run on and on—and then reappears as if clouds passed by. Read More
Tag: moonlight
Lake Nights
by Ryan Norman Moonlight laps the shoreline astiny-surfed feet dance on the pebblesin the stillness of night.Soft crashes of water on stone orchestratea ceremonious march toward sirens’soft sonnets—vows of forevertogether in the depths of the shallowglittered lake. His steps sink in the man-sown sandcovering the beach of dirt and stone hisheel toe, heel toe slidingone after the other—Soles pound to Read More
Dear John,
by Stephanie Parent You didn’t look like your profile picture. You didn’t sound like your texts. Online you seemed sophisticated, experienced, telling me about your lingerie photo shoots, the erotic articles you were writing for online magazines. I thought maybe you were full of shit, but I was full of shit too. I wasn’t the girl excited about life and Read More
you will surrender your life
by Linda M. Crate you think onlywerewolvesknow metamorphosis?you think onlywerewolvesknow the moon?she is my kin,my mother,to be specific;the night is when i feelmost alive—you buried me duringthe day when i was still sleepinglike the coward you were,but i woke up;and i broke out of that coffinleaving earth and your name behind me—reclaimed both my voice and my power,learned my magic Read More
For Thieves and Travelers
by Karen Shepherd Give the traveler bright moonlight but give the thief darkness. Mtembezi mpe mwezi, mpe kiza mwizi.– Swahili Proverb To thieves, give darkness. Strip the sky of stars,obstruct the paths with webs of maple roots.Hang thorny vines from broken limbs to creakin winds. Allow no safeguards in this night. Detect the hurried clamber, running farwith our character hidden Read More
When the moon spills the secret
by Megha Sood My memories,so scarred and yet sublimeare made of the moonthat white orb of truth,shining mighty high Sitting high in the cleavage of the nightwith a shifty-eyed smilepasses the wisdom from night after nightyour heart, it says,has to go through the phasesto become fullwith joy and grief alike my mottled skinsieved by the milky moonlightimbued with the softness Read More