Country Funeral
down the rambling
path they led us to the open
mouth of earth
where I would lay to rest
someone I never met
lifting a cask gently.
Keep walking
More from the ditch
Poetry
Springtime by John Reinhart
Springtime arrived, open mouthed, black, screeching harpy-like in the tree branch above my picnic table, sure to shit all over the white paint, something dead hanging from her claws; mechanically…
PoetryCourage by Mary Pacifico Curtis
Courage This world holds both poison and medicine – two leaves that look the same – the shiny one makes quinine and the other kills. Our guide picks up two…
PoetryThe Storm Wind by Edward Ahern
gusts and surges like an unchained guard dog, strewing dust and pollen, flashing the naked underside of leaves, and tossing meadow grass like ruffled bear fur, spinning from side to…