Snowy Path
On the snowy path there’s nothing, only silence, no love, no hate, nothing that reminds us of what was, what will come, was it warm, will it burn… On the snowy path there’s nothing...
Tagged: death
To What Destiny of Mine
Poem To what destiny of mine I ask , O conscript fathers, so that I may have this query rejoined. I tour the western rim of the fluvius Tiberis as night pursues the...
A Lament for Margot
There was not one second, not one tiny sliver of a moment when I didn’t think you were beautiful. You, among the trims of taffeta, the trails of incandescent pearls. You, standing in the...
As Is the Beginning, Is the End
Short Story Jeanne Ann Westveer was born in 1935. Jeanne married John Frederick Girard Rooks in 1960. She is the mother of my mother, making her my grandmother. When I’m writing this, my...
Fixed On War
Short Story Face down in the mud, I dragged myself through thorns and thickets of shrubs. The damp was seeping into my boots, and the chill biting at my flesh. My men surrounded...
Interview of a Lifetime
Short Story Grant slides his tie into the nook of his collared shirt. Looking at the mirror, he makes sure it is placed perfectly. He runs his hand through his hair; it is...
Even Death Is Better
Poem The clock is ticking, the room is dark, no one’s breathing, I want to hide, I want to cry, but she holds me tight. Her image is a stone, her smell is...
The School Bus of Life
Poem Seeing all the tired people On their small smartphones Never feeling that they are Alone in their bones Crowded morning looking sunny Light is moving sweet and bright Hoping that their Tuesday...
Forget Forgiveness
Poem Months have passed Summer turned to fall. Days are growing cold- and the wind is blowing fast …away to a crimson sky- bloody sunset and do you know? I still hide to...
Death – Thinking of Today
Poem I often wonder if this is a slow death. We all are in our own way stepping one step closer and closer towards our death. Taking each day as it comes, planning our...
