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Art, Fiction & Other Imaginings
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The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Page Jenkins  He appeared in a grey mist, one clouding his senses and depriving him of warmth. He shuddered as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The man reached forward into the abyss and grasped at the air. He pulled his hand back and watched as the fog slowly escaped his palm. In silence he stepped forward into the darkness aspiring to find all the answers to his many questions. His bones ached and cracked as he slowly shifted his legs one in front of the other. His destination was in question but he continued to push his chest forward as he thought about his past and future. The past was tumultuous, creating a distended view of reality for the man. His mind consumed him as he tried to contemplate the environment. He thought of his misery and failings. He recalled the indecision and inaction that ruled his life. The man continued his decrepit journey through the mist, each step taking a large toll on his body. His feet started to shake and bleed, and his skin slowly withered in the cold air. The man was inconceivably determined to push on, keeping his grief and desires in mind.
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The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By George Freek  As always winter is bleak.
Crows pick at the rotting bones, of a skeleton looking sightlessly towards a desolate sky, searching among the stars, where dreams abide. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Donna Pucciani  or nowhere. Here in Chicago,
on the shores of Lake Michigan, I sometimes forget The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Donna Pucciani  roadsides would explode
with blossom. Pick your favorites-- crimson poppies, the white fronds of hydrangeas, day lilies orange, blushing coral. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Donna Pucciani  The pear trees still own
the backyard, with their nuisance fruit in the fall, their blossoms a stinking blizzard in spring. I remember The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Donna Pucciani  Today’s blessing: a watery sun,
dribbling down from heaven in a stream of mute psalmistry. The earth has forgotten winter, snow a stranger knocking at the door when one least expects it. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Ghia Vitale  The ripest strawberries are so sanguine,
they inspire vampires with their red. Bespeckled and freckled with seeds of green is a fruit with the beauty of bloodshed. |
