Evening Song
The killer is an orca – her beauty is more than he can bear, the strength in her body breaching the ocean, puncturing the air in a smooth ballet. How the water glistens on the day and night of her … Continue reading Evening Song
Author: Charlotte Hamrick
Charlotte Hamrick’s creative writing and photographs have been published in a number of literary journals and anthologies. Her debut prose chapbook, Offset Melodies, is included in Grieving Hope (ELJ Editions), a collection of five microchaps. She is Managing Editor for Reckon Review.
Things are Starting to Grow
It’s April and Winters icy fingers still clutch at bark and stem. It’s a push and pull between cool and warm, a daily battle. Tiny tendrils, with fierce determination, push toward the sun, a little taller every day. Nodes swell, … Continue reading Things are Starting to Grow
Bursting Ice
Darkness is swallowed – I lay my hand lightly, shadows flicker on his face, eyelashes splayed on his cheeks. Quietly, confusion rises milky as an autumn moon. Plain-spoken without a filter – Regret, ill-spent time, missed opportunity – Kindness is … Continue reading Bursting Ice
On the Lake
Clouds over head holding their breath, flocculent cheeks distended, rumbling a promise from deep within. We, bobbing on gently swelling waves, sun-warmed wood cooling slowly beneath us, oars beginning a tap-tap-tap warning against the boat. A world enclosed in suspended … Continue reading On the Lake
River Mamma
The sinewy arm of the river hugs the city, a lover grown older and wiser in the ways life. Visitors often choose the neon and flash of the streets, the furious noise of movement, vitality on steroids pumped up with … Continue reading River Mamma
River of Music
Fingers of wind blew my hair around my head like Medusa’s snakes as I walked along the river levee listening to the slurp of water on shore, it’s brackish smell strong in my nostrils. Strands of music born on the … Continue reading River of Music
I Will Not Be Misunderstood
No labels, no pigeonholes, no cog in a wheel no number in a government database, no desk in a cube farm, no cc: in an email, no lemming falling over a cliff, no sheep in a flock, not another face … Continue reading I Will Not Be Misunderstood
‘Fugue’ and other poems by Chelsea Dingman
Originally posted on Poethead by Chris Murray:
British Columbia Pastoral September: almost snow. White sheets across the sky, the fields. How strange the frost, feral over desert hills. Sage brush caught in the cattle’s teeth. The river… Continue reading ‘Fugue’ and other poems by Chelsea Dingman
The Trees are Burning at Midnight
their reflection in your eyes, burned tears ashes on your cheeks, sparks blowing in the frenzied breath of a fire-thirsty beast. Absence of air, intense suffocation, green screaming with scorched breath, suppleness falling, falling, falling everywhere, rubble and ruin. *** … Continue reading The Trees are Burning at Midnight
Water Magic
Baptized in early spring sunlight, nursing an ache for anarchy, we skipped school – hiding in Jen’s car until last bell blew. Feeling brave and daring – the kind of girls who skipped school – we drove with no destination … Continue reading Water Magic
