Strings of starlight fall lightly onto tired eyes that gaze in solitude with only the wind for a companion whistling gently through the cracked crimson gold leaves of autumn that drift quietly onto frost bitten ground. In the shadows lay our bones that are no longer lost only broken. Wary
Would I be forgiven if I lay with my cheek pressed flat against the bosom of the grass sparkling with last night’s rain that came in startling sheets as heavy as the shame, wrapped around my heart in threads woven out of calculated missteps Would I awaken as fresh and
Listen: Can you hear the ocean washing away the tide? How the waves make different sounds? I stop. I thought you had turned away but in fact you got washed away far in the deep blue sky. Wait. I look closer to see the sky is actually green a really
I have a terrible, nasty habit of needing control. Some might call it an obsession or even a disorder. My therapist Dr. Suzuki has gone as far as calling it an addiction. We sit in zen-like office filled of plants. He is trained in Internal Family Systems therapy and is
“HWOOYA” This was the sound that echoes for at least an hour after waking up in this bizarre forest I had never seen in my life. It feels chill and crisp like nature is one to do, but also with maple trees in a vibrant painterly orange that nature never
Forgive me my familiarity. For a time, I forgot Or ignored, Or never knew The measure of your grandeur. We laughed and played, Held hands and fell And tumbled together, Amidst nature’s forces. And now, reposed, like light Dawning on me, I remember I acknowledge, and learn anew The spark,
Adam and Eve were stick figures Drawn by god in their infancy Amid Green Triangle trees And a yellow circle sun A blue River Ribbon Flowed out of Eden A sable Serpent was easy to draw (the red forked tongue came later) The plot thickened, an apple, ruby red And
Cookie-cutter roofs defy the critics With block conformity And mass appeal. The HOA rules Middle Earth With threats and fines. Cracked foundations flood Carpets and faux wood floors With sewer water. Middle Earth huddles Under red tiles During wind, rain, and hail. Odors of cooking and nature callings Stink rooms
Angel looked at the bric-a-brac that hung on the restaurant walls. Rickie examined thelabel on his beer bottle. Mary folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. Todd shrugged.“A woman cannot be a feminist and work in a corporation,” Todd said.“It’s that simple,” Mary said.“It’s that simple.”Angel shook Rickie’s
This publication is the result of collaboration between students and faculty of the School of University Arts & Sciences and the School of the Arts at Selkirk College. Submissions are published online throughout the year and selected works are compiled into a print magazine once per year.
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