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...
Responsibility by Shirley Plummer
“Responsibility” by Shirley Plummer weary thoughts of the end arise when how if I knew certainly would I make a pragmatic plan? or throw up my hands shout ‘live it up, make hay –‘ why not? if there were sun to lie in I might lie in it stretch and relax enjoy for the first time total freedom ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here Shirley...
Plunge by Margaret Chula
“Plunge” by Margaret Chula The water felt neither warm nor cold as I sank into the sea after hitting my forehead against a borrowed surfboard. The blaze of sunlight on water brought me back to the surface—pulled out of the rip tide by strangers. During World War II, it was the job of school girls from Chiran to take care of kamikaze pilots— washing their laundry, sewing on buttons, and saying good-bye as the...
Singing at the End by Molly Scott
“Singing at the End” by Molly Scott How do we know when that is – the end? so we can put our boots on, so we can be sure our doors are open and all the chores are done, so we can feel the breath, the precious breath move through the bone house one more time ribboned with song. When the sound is right, the singer knows. It’s muscles, really, and intent, an exercise of tensing this, releasing that, a gesture –...
Cycle for Nembetsu Udori, Festival to Summon Ancestral Spirits by Judy Schavrien
“Cycle for Nembetsu Udori, Festival to Summon Ancestral Spirits” by Judy Schavrien Summer in Kyoto, Remembering Van Gogh Cicada(1) at Dawn From the full-throated throb you alight – sawing your single note. Noon: Remembering Van Gogh on Mt. Heiei Noon swelled to bursting. In the pine’s blue flame – one sudden cicada! Sunset Cicada, silent in a ray of sunset you weld to the branch. Night Cicada, with all your...
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The Deepest Place Jul 26, 2025
