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October

by Paul Hostovsky Everybody called him Toby, though his real name was October, though nobody knew that except the teacher who assured him his secret was safe with her that first day in September, when he came in early, before any of the other kids and introduced himself to her, and told her about his […]

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Gray Baseball Hat

by Paul Hostovsky I’m rooting for gray. Because there’s too much black or white in the world. Too much win or lose. And much too much rain or shine. Go gray! Give me a gray day with a very fine rain– more like a mist coming at the bottom of the 4th, deepening the colors, […]

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Old Western Town/Museum

by Joseph Milosch It was mid morning — sparse clouds above mountains. In the old western town, it was approaching noon. One heard whispers as they entered the cabin, used by Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. One heard their voices echo. In legend the door faced the entrance to the Hole in the Wall. […]

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Alabama Sunshine

by Paul Ingrassia Grasshopper lies hidden, then suddenly takes flight; In a field of green: such a little thing – I step lightly, gazing at the sky, tiny silhouettes circling, hawks among the clouds.

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After the Rain

by Lucille Gang Shulklapper Into their thin-walled shells the snails struggle, away from juicy leaves, spray dripping with poison. Watching them inch towards death, gray in the sun, worm-like on stone pavers, the leaves forgive themselves.

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The Solitary Journey

by Chen-ou Liu ahead, two roads diverged in the dim woods the journey was long arriving at the fork once again, I chose the road less traveled déjà vu I walk it fearlessly

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Spiritual Birth

by Michal Mahgerefteh Above and around the Mercy Seat stretched wings encode His Will to the Material Universe through the ever changing horizons: the sun, the moon, the stars-at their zenith. Nevuah uses words to encompass a mark upon the forehead of men falling like rain from heaven. And I, with an array of weaving, […]

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Looking To November

by Kay Poiro Looking forward to November I offer A crisp nod to the man with The natty overcoat and back Carved in the arc of humiliation Reminds me of the man hired to sit me As a child, I anticipated his moldy smell Yellowed fingertips and pirate stories I still see him At the […]

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Sunday at the Brighton Loop

by Neal Whitman There was sleet Saturday. Summer was not over. Autumn had not turned. Ess curves take us to 8730 feet. Aspens still green are framed in white. We walk the snow-packed path that encircles Silver Lake at the Brighton Loop. At the observation deck a female mallard paddles by and leaves white tail […]

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Awakening

by Joseph Milosch What we know about the mocking bird is next to nothing. John says the bird mimics everything it hears: a chainsaw, a Jeep wrenching an iron post, the squeaking of a wooden gate. His wife says the bird mimics only the animals it hears: a feral cat, calling out its young, and […]

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Grandfather, 1900-1992

by Joseph Milosch He talked as if endearing himself to me was not the reason he taught me to drive, or taught me how to set a spark plug gap. I remember the hose under the kitchen porch. Grandfather’s thumb pulled down his bottom lip, as he rinsed out old chew, and washed his hands. […]

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Waking in a Cabin

by Joseph Milosch Waking in a cabin built for a John Wayne western, I listen to the wind blowing through the westerly window. I think of the beauty nature has passed from century to century. Walking past the movie cabins, I buy coffee and hike the Lake Shore trail. Nothing appears in the westerly sky. […]

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Twice as Long as Wide: Obelisk

by KJ Hannah Greenberg Rosemary ran her finger through the pile of clipped job announcements and twiddled the index of her atlas. The notices she’d cut from the professional newsletter were printed in blue ink. The notices she”d pinched from The Chronicle of Higher Education were printed in black. Other notices, taken from a free, […]

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Spare Rain

by Diane Payne People ducking beneath wet umbrellas, avoiding the woman’s hand reaching out from the window ledge. “Spare change?” she asks to no one in particular. “Spare rain?” a man laughs running to his car, giving the woman one last look before crawling into the driver’s seat, while the woman remains crouched, filling her […]

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Mountain Wind

by Jessica Heriot Before you feel it, you can hear it swooshing overhead Before you feel it, you can see it swaying the high branches back and forth, back and forth an amen corner in the tops of the tall trees Then you feel it when the wind scatters the leaves and jingles the chimes […]

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