The Mirror by Lytton Bell
“The Mirror” by Lytton Bell Look into the mirror and do not flinch You can see Death now rubbing her hands together spotted, wrinkled, bulging with veins engulfing every part of you without judgment You’re a woman with no past always threading her needles on the first try a flurry of diet pills and designer jeans never to be all you might have been You could be lost and not know it a castle with...
Karma by Felicia Mitchell
“Karma” by Felicia Mitchell Saving the sparrow whose small self is wound by wire may not save the cat half eaten by coyote. It may not save even me from myself, sorrow coiled around my heart like a copperhead. I love my cat. I love the coyote that tried to eat the cat. But I am sad about the cat, as sad as a woman crying. I know it is what it is, this snake that will strike or not strike, on any given day, no...
Beginning the Journey by Ruth Thompson
“Beginning the Journey” by Ruth Thompson Something is ended. She launches the small paper boat of it out onto the ocean and turns to the west. To wade out through glittering and foam, to lie upon the deep, to be a membrane between stars and mirrored stars. Then when her throat is full of all the voices she can carry, to turn and swim for shore. To run back, crying messages...
Why You’re Afraid of the Road by Charlotte Muse
“Why You’re Afraid of the Road” by Charlotte Muse There is room for one car, but what if the wheels miss and the car hangs over the edge with two tires spinning? You’d be moving frantically against the door, hoping to keep the balance or get out. Never would the yellow dust of the road seem so desirable; the blue sky so thin and threatening; and you a turned-over turtle, a blind bird! Or what if you...
October Ends by Marsha Howland
“October Ends” by Marsha Howland For Maureen, 1983-2014 The morning rain has ended; the afternoon mist has finally lifted. Late-day sun shines soft and bronze through the yellow and orange leaves at the edge of the woods. It envelops me, then passes on through the French doors, resting on the wall with the Wyeth print. It has reached the end of its journey, this light that has traveled a hundred...
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What treasures are secreted in the deepest places, the bathys, and how will we recover their promise?
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The Refracting Wave Jun 27, 2025
