There’s a photo of a man somewhere above an old obituary. The color picture has started to run and bleed. He is thinning on top and his...

There. The full Moon. A ghost. Pieces of you Falling to earth, walk Straight through me. My fingers clutch the sky, aching To catch your...

Moon shadow—tall, clear serenity brewing with depth—I am the moon. By Libby Hill Photograph and Poem by Libby Hill

Nothingness moves across the surface of the earth like a pack of hounds at hunt, sprinting snout first without a sound, and trammeling...

I found cracked brown leaves in the bed we share and the window open, curtains blowing in the wind. Gray light filtered into the room; my...

Remember back when you were young? You thought you’d get a diploma the old-fashioned way. The first voice of a new generation screaming,...

The thing is… I think I could have really loved you, And I think if we had allowed ourselves the possibility of that feeling I would have...

I wanted to go with her to the gate—or at least as far as security would allow—but she stopped me. Sarah held up her ticket, printed in...

I’m so damn dizzy. Quiz me what’s up and my mind reels. Feels like I’m a kid outside on a bright day raising a broom with two hands...