After it happened
I planted myself
Burrowed deep into the ground
A cold, silent slumber
But nestled in the dirt blanket
Green buds of new life started to form
Sprouts of hope emerged
And I reentered the world
Stronger
Ready to face the sun
Keep walking
More from the ditch
Poetry
Wicked Waltz by Lorraine Cipriano
Wicked Waltz Born in the age of phonographs in a small sinister place that was in the middle of Inwood, Indiana where secrets were better left unspoken because of the…
PoetryWe Pass by David Russomano
We Pass gas stations, grain silos, a small cemetery, telephone poles marching single file, mills, a bowling alley, fast food chains with names that we all recognize, a maze carved…
Fallow GroundThe Legend of Sabine by Arvilla Fee
They say on nights so very still, Sabine will come – oh, yes, she will. Holding babe to bony chest, she never rests; she never rests. Strain your ears, and…