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- Poetry > Free VerseSweet summer child, with your weightless green dress, you reflect the sun’s joy as your tiny bare feet cuff the meadow’s grass. You pick a dandelion. You ask, “Isn’t it pretty, Mommy?” I say it is. I run my fingers through your soft hair, gold in the sun like mine. In the wa...
- Fiction > All FictionI peer through the dark strands of my hair at the person staring back at me. He is a vision in black, wearing dark jeans, boots, and a plain black T-shirt. A couple of wristbands hug his wrists. He doesn't care much about his appearance, although he only ever seems to lean toward clothes that a...
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Photo > Photographs