By Jordan Hales The leaves are yellow but frosted over. There’s snow in the mountains, yet it melts when it reaches sea level. It’s that time of year when school feels enlightening, but we’re all pushing through that midterm schlump. Sunshine still rises high in the sky, but the October chill takes away its warmth—our days are getting shorter and shorter. Scarves are wrapped tight, and coffee is piping hot. Assignments are in at the end of the day…at 11:59. Winter tires are on, and now we wait for the snow. It’s that time of year again.
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New Beginnings
By Maria Capezio Crookes Day 1 Mother stopped the car in front of the house, where the fence paused to give space to the pathway to the front door. She turned the car off and put her head on the wheel. The rest of the family looked out the car window and stared at the new house. Built in the 1960’s, the house looked and felt old, but with a strange modern touch; it reminded Mother of the house from I dream of Jeannie. The two trees in the front yard lined the pathway, creating the illusion of a tunnel of leaves and low branches; there were rose bushes under…
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Might as well
By Maria Capezio Crookes I- The Chair Last Saturday, an ordinary one, I was in the living room, sitting on my favorite chair facing the window, letting the silence of the snow falling accompany me, with a blanket on my lap, my book, and my coffee. Taking a deep breath, I looked around and saw that the stack of Christmas cards we received was still sitting on the shelf where I left them in January. I shrugged, and thought, “I might as well do it, otherwise it’s not getting done.” I grabbed the cards and couldn’t help looking through them. Pictures of babies and dogs, letters of aunties with detailed…
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The Mighty Wrangler Sue
By Laura Ditto I’m sure you must have heard of many cowboy men— Billy the Kid and Buffalo Bill— but this ain’t about all them. See, I doubt you know that among the plains, a mighty girl once roamed with skill about the reins. In fiesty herds of cattle she always stood her ground and fired a blazing pistol with a deafening sound. Yes, it is she— who rangers never slew— the fearsome, frightening, fighting: the Mighty Wrangler Sue. They say she could mend clothes, while riding cross the range, yodeling into the night so folks all called her strange. She liked to walk in trousers, and…
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Love
By Kenneth A Hughes It’s wave after crashing wave Over the walls and spreading wetting Filling every space and bursting past Rippling with vibrations Pulsating emanating generating pumping out Overwhelming all encompassing Reverberating releasing relays Splashing forth and ever present Nothing but this is important to remember Always will and will be Captivated appreciated celebrated Flowing edges onward pouring Steadily gaining maintaining the volume Breathe it in and breathe it out It’s all we are and all we need As is the way of the stars Grow like a flower Share this Love Love eternally Love
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Cutting your tongue on the words you speak
By Kenneth A. Hughes Walking through the values you entered unto the world/ Fraught with nought nary a faerie, “Not Fair He!” These globs of stops are concluding a protruding confusing intrusive elusive notion current on the currents in motion on the Bering Sea portion of the Pacific Ocean/ Land meets man, meats man & plans stands for days in ways that’s it’s laid out like gout, stout as a shout/ This gory “Glory & hallelujah” in collusion to Illusion; losing to a lost paradise parable parked between antiquated ideas flayed and displayed in an intricate array The main rage on the stage is parading cascading triumvirate hues/ Stoned and…
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Home
By Destiny B. Key Being within Alaska’s nature has always been my definition of “home”. I refuse to call any place “home” because I know my home is Alaska. It’s in the waterfalls off the side’s of the Seward Highway, it’s in Whittier at the Salmon Creek run, it’s in the view of the Sleeping Lady and it’s in the Matanuska Glacier. Immersing and submitting to Alaska’s flora, fauna and salmon filled cool waters always felt beautifully natural. It’s apart of me and it’s a part of who I am, even to this day, being far from the land I am most familiar with.
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The Poets & The Muses Too
By Laura Ditto I’m chased into a waltz by Whitman, while Wilde hounds my head. Their words live on in memory, even when they are long dead. As I sit in stupor, and writing wracks my brain, I remember those who came before, and begin to feel quite sane. Sappho taught me how to love, Poe showed me my grief, Service gifted nature, and they all gave me relief. I live by words unspoken and leave my own to pages. Perhaps if someone finds them, they too will live for ages. If Homer told traditions, and Shakespeare defined play, then words create beginnings that never shall decay. …
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Jimmy
By joe Jimmy is the only man who genuinely believed I was a saint. He held me in as high regard as any man could. I knew Jimmy for what he was passionate and punishing. I never idolized the man but instead cherished him dearly as my brother. It is tough to say what our propensity for pain is, but Jimmy’s was deep and unrelenting. He was as unforgiving of self as any man could be and this, this is how I will remember him. Let it go, brother. Let it go.
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Snow Poem
By Pansy Alakayak Thank you snow, evolving is your presence, You and Mother Earth – what an essence. Snowflake and Snowshoe, wholly and true Hoarfrost on elders heads, oh yes they grew. Ancient dog musher and snowmachines too, What would they do without you! Climate change ravage, affecting all of you. Please don’t leave us, forever be true! Snow forever, you are pure and white. Please continue to come in your time. You are amazing and beautiful, In your everlasting time.
