Quarterly & Special Issues
December 24, 2025
I’m tired of the suburbs
of ugly concrete views.
I’m exhausted by windows
that look on parking lots
and buildings dressed in drab gray
December 24, 2025
My parents recognized a presence lingering in the hallway, like when you feel someone staring at you from across a room. That gaze makes you lift your head to turn your body and stop mid drag on a cigarette. Or to part those lips just so, before that bitter sip of Chivas Regal Whisky trickles down.
December 24, 2025
Your beauty’s in the flowers
Or in a drop of rain,
The mem’ries that we had
Forever will remain.
December 24, 2025
Gentle music fills our ears—
As carolers sing their songs of cheer
We bid them enter to warm up
With cakes and hot tea in a cup.
December 23, 2025
On the First Day of Christmas, my stomach asked of me: a baked ham inside a turkey…
December 23, 2025
A small package arrived from Dad in late fall — having journeyed thousands of miles to my doorstep — inside which lay the little ornament.
December 23, 2025
"She spoke into the silence, her breath rising like smoke. “I just want my dad. Please bring him back to me.”
December 23, 2025
Every year something arrived in my mailbox, before during or after;
the timing unrelated to any mystery
you’d entered and explored
before emerging with that year’s
small parcel summation…
December 22, 2025
“I just wanted to drop this package off for Mr. Gar. He will know what to do with it.” The man tapped his nose, winked, and began to walk out of the store. Before he left, he turned and smiled radiantly. “I do believe I feel the warmth of this store returning. It’s been too cold for too long.”
December 22, 2025
Every Christmas,
I hang a picture of my son
atop my Christmas tree,
along with colorful others...
December 21, 2025
“Once again we come together.
This is the season to sharpen knives,
test the waters, prepare for weather.
Bitter almond, thyme, sage, cloves:
spices this time of year requires.”
December 21, 2025
Switch off the light to understand how a candle dies — turns inward to disappear. A flicker burns stronger, briefly, stills, then darkens...
December 20, 2025
Eight nights. Flicker: By definition, “natural agents that stimulate sight and make things visible.” $2 twinkle strands around an old washstand. Bright, reddened gold.
December 20, 2025
The scent of pine enveloped her as the tinsel on the tree shimmered in the first light of dawn peeking through the front windows.
December 20, 2025
We try to be grown-ups, but troubles in herds invade our home, which is usually secular, and raise our anxiety to levels molecular. Such was our sad state when a package from Adda showed up on our doormat…
December 19, 2025
Dreidels scattered on the table,
gelt as prizes for wins,
latkes warming in the oven,
but, alas, no dessert.
December 18, 2025
"I need a reason to see you and Dad?"
Another knowing smile. Her head tilted and the right eyebrow went up like always. "Right. When I have to practically send your father in the sleigh after you to drag you up here once a year."
December 18, 2025
The solstice sliced us suddenly,
a raging and lonely cold,
a year not going gentle.
December 18, 2025
This late in December — Not just a bud, A fully blooming rose, Small. But still a full rose…
December 17, 2025
Swanson probably didn’t know she was updating an ancient rite. She simply opened her livestream one day in mid-December and talked about how the holidays were making her blue...







































