No rational correlation, no intent on the part of the Post Office that recently issued Forever Stamps celebrating the sun. About that Forever part, I mean. We can hope. Coronal loops, plasma blasts: Stunning shades of gold and copper. Fire, after all. The deep marble…

She talks to me as I stand in front of her, smiles from her heart and adores my eyes. She connects with my emotions always and inspires my dreams to come true. She dwells within me – my reflection.

I was born to walk this earth, and bear witness to its humble treasures. The rhythm of my boots in-sync, one of Life’s intrinsic pleasures. Through Field, and Stream: Asphalt and Gutter I was made to find new paths, To find as much beauty as…

December sixth I believe Is Saint Nicholas Day He brings oranges for good children And coal for bad children In their shoes lined up by the door Who knew there was a Saint Nicholas day? When I first found out in my German town I…

Warm, fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. Goey, little fingers dip them into a mug of cold milk. Sweet first bite, chocolate smears on lips, milk dribbles down chin. YUM! Eagerly, little fingers search out the milk for a second dip. Tip. Splash! Oops! Tears. “Don’t cry…

Charles Egan wrote a bit of history of the Irish        1 The late 1840’s were cruel for the Irish Potato crops were a staple of the Irish A blight on the crops starved many of the Irish Rotting from the center, devastating the Irish And…

The Blue Wall of silence unequivocally permits violence when it is one of it’s own doing the violating Giving serve and protect an even deadlier meaning.   Treating the world like their personal playground letting everyone know who the biggest gang in town truly is,…

Michellia Wilson Poetry Marathon Hour 10 (2021)   THE DAY THE LIGHTS WENT OUT I. I first noticed a long shadow cast on me from the West, pensive sunlight restrained by dusk, a murkiness akin to the water lapping the pond’s edge. It was an…

No. 9 – The Letter By Nandhini G. Natarajan   I saw the letter you had written in secret, night after night, fueled by alcohol. All the words I begged to hear, all the tenderness I wanted. Pages of it, the outpouring. Exactly the way…

“We all need a witness to our lives” my friend tells me after I apologize for sending another text. Someone to see the small but not insignificant events that happen throughout the day Someone to hear our random thoughts and understand our quirky feelings Someone…