Mistletoe and Sycamores

by Hally Winters “Of the many circumstances in my life for which I feel gratitude, these friendships shine with a particular brightness. They make me look eagerly to the future, to imagine all the conversations to come.” — The Crying Book by Heather Cristle Trees experience time differently. We drove up to see the snow. I had not driven with Read More

Missed You Again

by Nolcha Fox Lady with the Red Scarf at the Countdown Diner Did I misinterpret our eye contact? Sunday evening, Countdown Diner, you alone drinking wine, me with my back to you and the mirror in front of me, made eye contact several times. Don’t want to be misunderstood. Kicking myself for not saying anything to you. You have a Read More

Mourning Routine

by ShivaRJoyce I was always the one to wake first. Some early, ungodly hour. It wasn’t because I was a so-called morning person but more that I loathed sleep for robbing me of my day and time. Some mornings the air still had a frosty chill to it that hadn’t been there the evening before. Boiling water on the gas Read More

The Average Heart

by Tammy L. Breitweiser The average heart is the size of a fist in an adult. She steps nose to nose with the mirror and studies the charcoal, violet, and crimson mark across her left eye. It matches the size of his heart. What she sees are her pores large and gapping. She would have to pick up some treatment. Read More

Darn Dog Adopted Me Today

by Mary Ann Jacobs Sat on my porchSad eyes staring at meLike a pool of despairThumped his tailTake mePlease Don’t want no dogNever had oneDon’t know how toFeed himBathe himTake care of himDon’t want no dog Tongue hanging outLike clothes hanging on Granny’s clotheslineSlobbers up to meGoes under my handWants to be petted Don’t want no slobbering dogGo awayLeave me Read More

At 4am

by Danielle Salvadori dark deep wakingdread and dream entwinetrap me fracture menumb me surface to your breaththe pump of lungsyour slow breathslow rasp tree magpierattles gratesmarksnight’s end you hard breatheand turnthe firstgrey of day pull me nearskin heartvelour wrappeddespair dimmed exhaletogetherslideinto sleep Danielle Salvadori is a poet, photographer and video maker living in London. Her poetry has been published, or Read More

before her mother died

by Lisa Reily she didn’t know that her family was only held togetherby an old plastic Christmas tree,her mother’s pierogies,and homemade lemon cheesecake. she had always planned to make her mother’s food,but only ever watched her cook;now her hands were lost without a recipe. she didn’t know her father had never understoodwhy her mother had left him, even though he’d Read More

Our Celestial Dance

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

Visitation

by Tiffany Belieu Rainfall of tires on asphalt. Subconsciously,a count begins, un-mourned graveson the side of the highway. Guts the consequence of quickness.Creatures who leapwithout looking, spindly leg blown glass fragile, mar the pristinemourning gown of our drive time.Tragedy is an unfolded map in lap en route to an open casket.Lilies, a dozen ghost brides trumpetingmournfully from the backseat. In Read More

‘Til Death Do Us Part

by Suzanne Craig-Whytock Last week, Sparrow turned to me suddenly and said, “When you die, what do you want me to do with you?” We were watching TV together, cozy under a blanket, his arm around my shoulders. I laughed in surprise, a little taken aback, and answered, “Honey, aren’t you jumping the gun?” He smiled sweetly and said, “You Read More