• Nonfiction,  Poetry

    On Mountains: A Reflection of Danger, Pain, and Frog Water

    Thinking Back, 2002 – Spring 2022 By Laura Ditto Growing up around people who look at mountains like something they might attain for an afternoon snack leaves one with an odd sort of connection to nature. I’ve been raised with the stories of these people; who they are, their incredible feats, but also too often who they were. Early death, as it turns out, comes a little too easy for the adventurous spirits. That’s where the close, safe-feeling connection with nature becomes an oxymoron. Being who I am—somewhat cautious all the time but also clumsy—I tend to tread carefully when I’m walking in the woods. It leads me to think…

  • Fiction,  Poetry

    The Heaviest I’ve Ever Been

    By Zoe This is a story about weight loss. At one point in my life, I weighed a ton. And when I say a ton, I mean thousands of pounds. There was a point in my life I was so heavy I didn’t think I would get back up.  I lived in a field of white flowers. This was my life garden. The land of fresh, green stalks with white flowers on their tops rolled for miles. The breeze traveled through the leaves like it was playing the stalks as strings on a guitar. The white petals swayed to the beat in perfect harmony. I tended to my flowers every…

  • Poetry

    This Life

    By Corey Zeedar I look across the lake. I see the green trees, blooming with life.  I hear the birds chirping  In the distance a mother bear hunting for salmon to feed to her nearby cub’s. I see an eagle overhead, scouting over the land.  all is right in this world; everything has its way of life. Though, just ahead of this beautiful idealistic world, in this world of ours. There is pain, death, loss of beautiful full-grown trees.  This world has been burned and charred.   There are no trees. There is no vegetation.  There is no wildlife. There is no life. I see smoke, charred carcasses I see smoldering…

  • Poetry

    You Old Dog

    By Miles Dennis You were born, one among many, and from the very start You were never alone Your mother and your siblings were all you knew A dune of moving fur to roll on and wrestle with Though you hurt each other On needle-teeth Bites and scratches Your orange coats never showed red Because it was all play, your children’s games And one day they were gone They picked you up and Carried you away and They were frightening and You missed mother and All your brethren and yet The ones who took you Loved you all the same They held you and Sat for hours in that warm…

  • Poetry

    The World Before Me

    By Zoe A two part poem. Anemoia (n.) nostalgia for a time you have never known. The first mountain to grow The first river to flow Carving the first pathway When the sky blue not gray Exploring the first valley So rich and wealthy I dream it, I yearn For a time I’ve never known  When the earth formed Raging weather stormed I’m sure that was a sight to see Back when the world was free The rise of forests Before the existence of tourists I wish I saw the Great Fire And I’m not saying it to be satire Or the Great Flood gate open When glaciers used to…

  • Poetry


    By Sara Hinojosa The trip to the border is punishing Months of blistering feet Scorching heat Deciding who I can trust Of all the new faces that change everyday Not sure where I’ll find my next meal Or where I’ll lay my head for restless sleep My grandparents have been leading the journey Since my mother was kidnapped But staying in Colombia means We all would die So I find myself in an endless cycle at the border Without a mother It’s all I can do to keep from wondering Is she safe Is she alive Is she suffering Court dates are months apart And it seems my chances are…

  • Poetry

    Star Mother

    By Laura Ditto Where were you last night? I was striding across the clouds, plucking stars from sleepy dark beds. I combed back their wild hair and hugged them tight before setting them into their blankets, watching them glow a little brighter. You see, this is my job. You see, without me, night would never be the same. Where were you last night? I sat alone at the edge of the universe, looking over all that rests in the dark hours. You were not among them, were you? You see, I watch over those who need to rest. You see, you should have been asleep. Where were you last night?…

  • Poetry

    Everything I Love,

    By Zoe May Everything I love,  someone loved before me.  The music I love, someone played for me. The food I love, someone fed me.  The books I love, someone read to me. The places I love, someone took me. The clothes I love, someone made for me.  The gifts I love, someone gave me.  The gardens I love, someone grew for me.  The movies I love, someone showed me.  The jewelry I love, someone crafted for me. The people I love, someone introduced me. Everything I love, someone loves with me. 

  • Poetry

    Covered Crowns

    By Anonymous 1786 in Louisiana Were the Tignon* Laws They were used like a bandana To cover black women’s hair because Creole women were required to cover all their hair They used to experiment and adorn it They made the white men stare White women didn’t like it one bit It came off as competitive So they had to use Tignon To black women, who looked, was not relative But their creativity went above and beyond They began to adorn the fabric With feathers and jewels Rule makers though their change would be drastic But black women found a way around the rules They tried to police the appearance of…

  • Poetry

    The Conversation

    By Anonymous  “This just in,” the news reports  “Renny Miles shot 25 times.”  While watching this, I want to abort  “Fifteen years ago, he was a man of many crimes.”  They display his mugshot when he was 16  I know him, our church deacon  Super kind man, lovable, never mean  He helped everywhere he could.  A true light beacon  Further reports indicate  He was out for an 8pm stroll  He just needed some air before he met his fate  From his mate this is what was told  The police felt he fit the description  He’s black, tall, fit  He posed no infliction  It always happens and the police will acquit …