Hearts Blend

Hearts Blend

We face our beginning; with one wrong step, our end. Both ends tangle as we explore—we share The now and could be. Time blends.   Fingers, trembling, you lend And tangle through mine—we must beware. What if the beginning is also the end?   Oh, candlelight, soft and...
Unread

Unread

Unread texts swiped across my screen. I’d never call it personal— I’ve left him on read for a week, and I don’t reply to her as quickly as I used to. I hear the ding, I watch it flash, and for a few fleeting moments, I stare at black, bold text with fading, flooding...
Found

Found

Found: a poem, down a dusty old path that leaves have scraped with many final breaths. When asked why it lingered so, it laughed and held onto my arm, and hopped with wreaths of dry, pressed daisies (all the color drained) upon its golden head. It did not seem to care...
To Speak

To Speak

You touch where none have touched, Catch my future as it flutters through. Cradling it, softly you ask, “You all right?” I cannot speak.   You see what none have seen, Catch each emotion as it flickers across. Smiling knowingly, you ask, “What are you thinking?” I...
Words

Words

By Rebecca Pepper   As far back as extends the human brain, Did words by virtue of themselves enchant, Aligned, symmetric, synchronized refrain, A verbal song, humanity’s descant. For lightning does not flash but coruscate, And water washes, swishes, swirls, and...
Morning Dew

Morning Dew

Pain creates the darkness of the night Washed away by the morning dew; Love formed with the tick of a clock By the next breath was never true.   Autumn leaves and cherry trees, Their moments turn to decades. Insincerity breathes through me As any hint of tenderness...
Daisy

Daisy

To the white and yellow wildflower sitting next to me in the grass, you look lonely. You are the only one of your kind in all the field, and I understand how much that aches. There are so many trees to shade you, but all you want is to taste the sunlight— then maybe...
WWI Museum

WWI Museum

By Cainon Leeds   I was twenty-four, my friend, and getting married; we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into when we passed over the field of poppies that said, “We are the numbers to end all numbers. You can try, but you cannot count us away.” And we...
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