Smoldering Dreams — a golden shovel poem after Robert Frost, author of Bond and Free Please, don’t cast your love on me, I fear I’ll splinter. Why has the wide-open country withered to earth and bone. To circling walls. To snow — smothering that which ventures out. A dream she
The painting hanging on the wall was unwelcoming and venerable with its twirling winds above the seaside as the thunder rumbled in the oil. The storm mounted above the tropical scene makes me feel small, useless, a flea in a flea market, escaping the harsh crescendo of noise. The mulberr
Things might have been different, but they could not have been better. -J.R.R. Tolkien, “Leaf by Niggle” I met you in a foreign land, where you told me I am what could have been. Around us the rain fell in shades of lavender and cool blue bubbles that popped on contact with our skin. [&hellip
By Julia Voyt Pages and pages of 12 size Times New Roman are bled across the paper feverishly, introductions and statistics under methods and conclusions. Not eating food and my bicep is smaller this week I talk faster to my family and I write, write, write. The earth outside smells different and sw
By Emma Gail Compton I made the table I eat dinner at. The wood was cheap but sturdy. The stain I chose is a dark oaky red and makes the small round table seem more expensive than it was. One could find something similar at any store, but this table, my table, I made. I […]
By Lindsay Jankowski Cookbook for life Imagine life came with a cookbook, chock full of suggestions and answers to all of life’s problems. Unsure how to approach your mom about changing your career? Consult page 552 on “mother-daughter conflict” for a step-by-step list. Think you’re going
