July 30, 2026
The moths have stopped circling the porch light, their wings now are as stiff as old letters. The night stretches thin — a slow dissolve of indigo into nothing…
July 28, 2026
We had just passed the Cat and Fiddle, right on the tops with a long, steep descent ahead…
July 26, 2026
The rain fell down, the marsh lay deep and wide, the small green singer raised his ardent plea — a pulse of life where hidden shadows hide, a call to join him in the waters free.
July 25, 2026
The perfect writer’s retreat, Ellen’s house is a signal of hope for Ruby. The house is vast with the only other occupants being Ellen and her adult daughter Lara. Ruby craves approval from Ellen and even Lara, but she can’t seem to impress them, let alone figure out the dynamic between the elusive mother-daughter duo.
July 24, 2026
She sits in quiet disbelief at the table where cards are spread, offering her but scant relief from the sense of coming dread…
July 22, 2026
Here’s a secret: Essays are just worksheets without the boring worksheet format; they’re a process of answering dozens of questions and putting the answers together like puzzle pieces to form a coherent argument.
July 21, 2026
Buck is a survivor: Through good times and hardships, and from master to master, he perseveres, offering readers a story of humanity through the actions of a dog. Buck shows more humanity than many of the human characters.
July 21, 2026
Living with you is living in a burning tower
Smoke billowing out the windows
as flames engulf all we built together
July 18, 2026
Tapas Rueful is a quick read but each poem holds much depth. Each line could provoke lively discussions among people that live in that area; however, the beauty of the scenes invites all readers. The poems wrapped me, a foreigner to this land, in a warm blanket of mysterious outcomes and joyful freedom as the Ibis walked gently across the pages.
July 16, 2026
The comet is disappointing.
They promised, this time,
Bright and true, in daylight,
We’d see a trail half across
A bewildered sky.
July 13, 2026
Of fragile flesh they rise, then sink to clay,
Their moments framed by gazes keen and bright.
Adored they blaze, then slowly pass away,
Perhaps too long they lingered in the light.
July 10, 2026
I’ve broken free, escaped, and found my way
into a maze of books and magazines.
No minotaur shall hunt me in this place.