A Moment
By Eli Ehrenpreis — I heard a poem as a train approached. Swaying while it moved toward me, curving left and right along the tracks, filling my visual field.
May 12
28 May 2016, 10 days after Your death
By Daniel M Zibman — Pollen floats, settles on the deck, driveway, cars, brick walkway. Footprints from the pups, tire tracks. The birdhouse, the one sitting in
May 9
What I Told My Legs
By Lissa Perrin — I never liked you. You’re short, sturdy, and hairy, requiring daily maintenance. You're like my mother's, built for comfort, not for speed.
May 3
"Johnny"
By Jeanne Andrea Di Grazio — I found your old toothbrush with the faded, frayed bristles and a half-used tube of Colgate in a tattered plastic bag in the
Apr 30
The Sacker of Cities
By Daniel J. Davis — My sweet Penelope waited for me. That's more than some men can say. She waited while I took my time coming home. I am still finding my way.
Apr 27
Too Big
By Mae Stewart — Nothing chews up Wellies like city sidewalks, so I purchased Doc Martins, a size 10 for my humongous feet. The artwork on them
Apr 24
The Night I Learned to Hold My Own Hand
By David Anson Lee — “You will survive,” I whispered. Not brave. Not certain. Only needing the words to land somewhere that would not move. Outside, a stray dog
Apr 22
Seeing into the Heart of Things
By Brenda Jacobsen — I’ve been thinking about journeys. I walked part of the Camino de Santiago in Spain last year with two friends. Walking 100 miles
Apr 19
White Flower Oil
By Wisteria Deng — I walk into the room and there he is, half-buried in ancient books and business letters, one of his tails hanging down from the step stool,
Apr 16
Lessons from the Circle of Life
By Leslie Fiering — When I was younger—in my early 20s—full of revolutionary fervor, marching for racial equality, to legalize abortion, for peace and to change
Apr 13
Uncivilized II
By Gary Beck — After high school graduation, the excitement of prom night, we sent them to a foreign land where they toughened up fast, or died.
Apr 10
‘Ex’ is the beginning
By Barbara Simmons — Of all the words I’m associating with this new year: the exact word for what I’m feeling about 2026 excludes expectations of all moments being exhilarating, explores
Apr 7
He Sat in the Light
By Cynthia Dorfman — He sat in the light. There was a Monet-luminescence about him. Light on the surface trembling, catching the transient moment.
Apr 4
The Story I Told Myself
By Robert Martin — I told myself the door was closed on purpose, that I had paused my hand an inch from the knob because waiting looked like wisdom from
Mar 29
Love And Friendship
By Lynn White — If there was a beginning to our love that we can define, then it was friendship and the drift into love took us by surprise, started us,
Mar 26
Confessions of an Unlikely Mother
By Phyllis Rittner — "Want to hold her?" she asks. My friend places a spit up rag on my shoulder, then her wriggling infant, with its mass of dark hair, into my arms.
Mar 23
The Way I See It
By Linette Rabsatt — My vision is slightly obscured, not necessarily blurred, but the way I see it things always have a hidden meaning. Not because
Mar 20
Confection
By James T. Stemmle — My life partner makes one journey each day, down the stairs on artificial knees with painful feet toes crossed arthritically to her place of
Mar 17