The Vagabond By Jay Raymond White There’s a highway bridge over the Devils River on the outskirts of Sonora, Texas, where I and my cousin Butch used to hide out to smoke cigarettes. One day after school, we ducked under the bridge and came upon a vagabond Mexican so filthy we thought at first […]
The Tire Iron and the Tamal By Justin Horner During this past year I’ve had three instances of car trouble: a blowout on a freeway, a bunch of blown fuses and an out-of-gas situation. They all happened while I was driving other people’s cars, which for some reason makes it worse on an emotional
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Night And Bray By Beth Burube I first saw them ten months ago. If not for the trickle of light spilling from a waning moon, they would have escaped my notice altogether. Their bodies were ghostly silhouettes, but I could see his lips resting on her neck and they had no regard of
Las Alfombras of Semana SantaAntigua, Guatemala By Carol L. Bowman We sat in the plaza facing La Escuela y Iglesia del Cristo and watched as the participants for the day’s event arrived by foot, taxi, horse, scooter and bicycle. Women, young girls and elderly matrons, all clad in funeral black suits, dresses or miniskirts
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A Cornish Cliff By Bobby Johns The cliff massively monumental, majestically stands, its feet firmly planted in sand of its pulverized self. The cliff crafted from molten rock, cooled by sea winds and sculpted by South Westerly gales.. The cliff, face pocked with ragged nests alive with screeching , wing flapping
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SYGENE28 September 1936 – 7 February 2011 I held her hand for hours, Until I couldn’t anymore, I kissed her goodbye, And covered her face. She taught me to love, I didn’t believe I could, A gentle touch, a soft tear, A quiet cry in the night. She taught me about courage, Followed me
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When Sitting With Nepalese When sitting with some Nepalese, I wander back in time To my old village in Nepal Where I did once abide. Sindhuli Madhi was its name, A Himalayan site: With Annapurna on the left, And Everest on the right. Thatched roof adorned my village hut, While cow dung formed the
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IN MEMORIAMJIM COLLUMS —A Wonder- Filled Member of Our Lakeside Family –September 17, 1935 – February 16, 2011 Do not stand at my grave and weep,I am not there – I do not sleep.I am a thousand winds that blow,across the lake we all now know. —Mary Frye As eternal youth among us, Jim
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Tripping At times I trip out of my spin And climb to the top tick-tock I am thinking of fallen decades And I know somewhere joy stopped. The chimes stop for a midnight pause A snug rest from the drum-beaten throbs Twelve o’clock and I go ahead Joy is somewhere but now it seems dead.
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“You have just entered the Twilight Zone.” By Peter L. Rosenberg We could hear those words being said by Rod Serling as we drove up the highway from Barra De Navidad to Puerto Vallarta. The top was down on the convertible as the weather was sunny and about 73 degrees. Then, rounding a curve,
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