Poetry

Melissa Lemay maybe i’ve been wrong all this timethe cat lying in the pile of dirty laundryhas it all figured out every time a monarch butterflyflutters by, i breathe in a little magic seeing shapes in clouds remindingme of simpler dayswhy am i awake? i ask myself the years of hurting i have masteredi haven’t… Continue reading

Meghan Woodward Sugared tongue to coverthe bleak words, glancesenough sour candy and nowI’m numb to the walls movingin and my heart moving out; Salted lips savoring sadnessthe cruelty, harsh realitycuddled chip stacks snuggleloneliness, spooning mygrowing ass and dwindling will; Chocolate dripped fingers frozen,the destruction, brutalitydarkened truffles replacepleasure, sensationcoating me with love no longer here. Meghan… Continue reading

Kim Whysall-Hammond We learnt that sleep is negotiablebut the siren wail of a newborn is not We learnt that there is no replacementno salve for grief, just life lived on But that there is salvation in a gurglehope in a well soiled nappy Wonder in breastfeedingjoy in Dad’s skinwarmed bottle Glory in so-soon brown eyesin… Continue reading

Phoebe Shade She is a splash of watercolorsdancing across the canvas of spring. Floating like a featheron a warm breeze,she drifts down,lands on my hand. She rests,then lets go. Carried again by the breeze,she finds youand lifts one tiny wingto wave hello—the way ladybugsoften do. Phoebe Shade is a 12-year-old artist based in Austin, Texas,… Continue reading

Nick Allison If I’d known what was comingI might have stayed drunk—wrapped in the amber hushwhere edges blurand headlines dissolve like salt. Three years on,thoughts scatter like pigeonswhen I move too fast toward them.If I leave them alonethey circle,then vanish into sky. Maybe free will is only a rumor.Still, I can choosewhich rumor to follow,which… Continue reading

Isabelle Luebke Flower shimmeringwith raindropsand sun— beauty has cometo this world. Nine-year-old Isabelle Luebke lives in Little Rock, Arkansas and spends time equally with her dad, Brandon Luebke, and her mom, Rachel Armes-McLaughlin, who is co-editor on this book. Isabelle likes to draw, play with her many cats and dogs (and one fish), help her… Continue reading

Rachel Armes-McLaughlin I relish in the eveningslike this, when after a busyand not always easyday, we come homeand the neighborhoodkittens have come outto play – we go chirp at them,then head toward ourfront door, but before we can even reach itwe smell the stew –like a warm auraaround our home –that we put onhours before.… Continue reading

Barbara Harris Leonhard The gap between compassion and surrender is love’s darkest, deepest region.—Orhan Pamuk, The Museum of Innocence I am ready to shed the old clothes,the tatters that hang off my heart that I thoughtheld some comfort but that no longer fit me.I lay them out for display. Touch each one,each fear & attachment… Continue reading