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”

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”

Walls by Shelly Blankman

Wallsby Shelly Blankman Dedicated to the family of my grandmother, Regina Wallenstein, and the millions slaughtered by the Nazis while the world turned a blind eye. I’ve walked these halls before,seen the dimmed faces of thoseborn to die because they were Juden,Jews.Time-tattered images of peoplefrozen in time, matted on wallslike cheap paper.Flammable.DisposableEyes of the innocentContinue reading “Walls by Shelly Blankman”

Kalimpong With Mother and Father by Amrita Valan

Kalimpong With Mother and Father by Amrita Valan It was the bedrock June of my nineteenth year Traveling by train to Kalimpong, peaceful pristine Poor cousin of crowded Darjeeling. Stayed at an old Colonial guesthouse, a charming Red roofed bungalow of deep cream. Dark Polished wooden floors and red tiles in the front. A breathContinue reading “Kalimpong With Mother and Father by Amrita Valan”

Autumn at Owen Beach by Carl “Papa” Palmer

Autumn at Owen Beach by Carl “Papa” Palmer Tacoma Washington rains a foggy mist I breathe in cadence with soft whispers of Puget Sound surf heard front row center sitting on this sand-locked log all to myself at Owen Beach. Seeking similes for birds behaving like birds as I float a morning prayer toward theContinue reading “Autumn at Owen Beach by Carl “Papa” Palmer”

In Bayfield by Kenneth Pobo

In Bayfield by Kenneth Pobo The sun trips over a red rock and breaks. The Madeline Island ferry carries dusk shards. At night Bayfield shines little lights on Lake Superior. The town closes down. Wind makes me shiver even in June. The Lake is like my Aunt Stokesia, chilly even in summer, strong in anyContinue reading “In Bayfield by Kenneth Pobo”

Harrisburg, PA, in the Night by Julene Waffle

Harrisburg, PA, in the Night by Julene Waffle The city crawls out from under the hills, sprawling, tempered, reposing under the cool autumn sky. From valley edge to valley edge, it waits for something to happen. Underpass sighs the passing traffic. I breathe it in: frictioned tires, exhaust, catalytic sulfur. Highways circle, rhythmic rumbling above,Continue reading “Harrisburg, PA, in the Night by Julene Waffle”

Leaving Denali by Sarah Russell

Leaving Denali by Sarah Russell You must leave Denali as you would a lover, before dawn, while he is blanketed in clouds, while the sentry spruce and larch, dwarfed and crippled by his hand, still drowse in mist. For if they wake, they will whisper your leaving on the wind. Then Denali will woo youContinue reading “Leaving Denali by Sarah Russell”

Paris Stories: One by Diana Rosen

Paris Stories: One by Diana Rosen On the lush green slope to the side of Cimetière du Père-Lachaise where the crumbling concrete tombstones of Molière, Colette, Hugo rest, I find myself seriously Lost, wave down a solitary figure to whom I plead, “Sortie, s’il vous plaît, sortie,” cobbled from the words for Please (a mustContinue reading “Paris Stories: One by Diana Rosen”

Cold Cabin by David Bachner

Cold Cabin by David Bachner The Maine winter set in. Up until then, we would find isolated places outdoors to make love, our two sleeping bags zipped together. But when it got too cold for that our options were limited: neither of us had a car; all of our friends lived in dorms, like us;Continue reading “Cold Cabin by David Bachner”