Corona Hopelings, Morro Bay, CA by Jeanie Greenfelder

Corona Hopelings, Morro Bay, CA by Jeanie Greenfelder Birds reclaim their beach, lounge in the sun or set up umbrellas for shade. Some picnic, others watch waves. In truth, on this cloudy morning, one gull almost hits me with a clam as he flies and drops it over and over until it cracks. Then heContinue reading “Corona Hopelings, Morro Bay, CA by Jeanie Greenfelder”

Pawleys Island by David Bachner

Pawleys Islandby David Bachner Traveling north, up from Saint Augustine and Savannah,I stop for the night at Pawleys Island, the South Carolinaresort community where my in-laws used to rent a beachhouse for a week every summer. I look out over the sea,remembering a day nearly forty years ago. The beach and the weather are perfectContinue reading “Pawleys Island by David Bachner”

Wambaw Creek by Krikor Der Hohannesian

Wambaw Creek                    Santee River Delta, South Carolinaby Krikor Der Hohannesian draped over the knobby kneeof a majestic cypress,a cotton-mouth dozeswrapped in a blanketof cozy April sunshine astride the far bank a young doehesitates, eyes us warily, spindlylegs on tremulous alert, nostrils flared,before bounding off apacethrough theContinue reading “Wambaw Creek by Krikor Der Hohannesian”

Walking Up Scafell Pike with My Father by Christian Ward

Walking Up Scafell Pike with My Father by Christian Ward After walking a few yards you breathe like someone who has slipped across the border. I am ahead, you are far behind. There are no rest stops on this rocky path to the summit, no hedgerows to distract our lack of common interests or silencesContinue reading “Walking Up Scafell Pike with My Father by Christian Ward”

Thus Flows the River of Life by Rajnish Mishra

Thus Flows the River of Life by Rajnish Mishra Warm, yellow, earlysun rays on steps of stone,Cold, turquoise, early, stillGanga water;early, sleepy echoes all around;I, alone, not lonely,daily drifting, sit by the river. Vermilion, late, reflected, warm, green:Stone steps, water, temples, river, air,later, resting echoes all around;I, between stone and waterthat looks foul yet fair. ConchContinue reading “Thus Flows the River of Life by Rajnish Mishra”

Cat Scarf—Arasta Bazaar by Joan Leotta

Cat Scarf—Arasta Bazaar by Joan Leotta Under the awning, in the Arasta Bazaar we pawed through the display in front of the silk shop— dozens of soft, splendid scarves shimmied in the breeze calling to our eyes and fingers. I spied among them, a silken swath replete with feline images. My daughter draped it overContinue reading “Cat Scarf—Arasta Bazaar by Joan Leotta”

Midsummer on Bodmin Moor by Rose Mary Boehm

Midsummer on Bodmin Moorby Rose Mary Boehm White feathery tufts ofof cotton grasswave in a breeze. Wind rustles in the golden gorse,whispers in stunted thorn trees,strokes heather and the oddbattered blackthorn. My tightly tied boots breakdry, hard grasses overtreacherous ground. Belowthe surface run kilometersof badger tunnels. Occasionally a bird lifts off, itsflapping wings the onlyContinue reading “Midsummer on Bodmin Moor by Rose Mary Boehm”

Leaving Algeciras in 1971 by Diane Kendig

Leaving Algeciras in 1971 by Diane Kendig “Africa, a whole new world.” —Philip Levine We could catch a boat from there to Ceuta for seventy-five cents, we said to each other in the school lobby in Segovia, we could go to Africa for less than a dollar, once we got to Algeciras. I had onlyContinue reading “Leaving Algeciras in 1971 by Diane Kendig”

Stone of Dreamtime by Trudy Wendelin

Stone of DreamtimeThe Ochre Pits, Australian Outbackby Trudy Wendelin In raw, ochre realmsAborigines paint the blood of ancestorsFrom deep palette of mineralsOnto desert landscapes… As shadows of siennaFade into glowing windsThrough the ephemeral lightWith burnt whispers of fire, Mining emotions from eternity,Excavating years from eonsOf ancient tears and fleshInto a dense moment in time. MyContinue reading “Stone of Dreamtime by Trudy Wendelin”

Once in the Bronx by Gary Beck

Once in the Bronxby Gary Beck Once I had a girlfriend who lived in the Bronx.I got lost whenever I visited her.I vaguely remember her neighborhood,a resplendent boulevard built to welcomeNapoleon IV, Marshal Foch, General de Gaulle.But it received instead my urgent lust,leading me astray in the seven hills,not of rambling Romeand the conspiratorial Tiber,butContinue reading “Once in the Bronx by Gary Beck”