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I’m bundled up against the morning chill,
gloved hands fumbling to put on my Covid mask as I near
the farmers’ market.
In the middle of the street
a woman with strands of gray hair sliding across her ruddy face gazes at me.

What does she want? Money?

“You dropped your bag,” she says, one more angel jolting me into remembrance
that goodness hasn’t died,
gratitude and chagrin wrestling in the chambers of my heart.

Poem by Ralph Dranow

Image by Adam Strong

Ralph Dranow is a Editor, Ghostwriter, Writing Coach, and Poet. He is the author of the poetry collections ‘A New Life’ and ‘At Work on the Garments of Refuge’. More info at www.ralphdranow.net

Elinora Westfall is a multi-award-winning actress and writer of stage, screen, radio, and fiction.

You are there
Distant and desirous
The ache for a Sunday
When a Monday has just begun

You are sweet reward
My love
When six days
Like oceans
Have been crossed

When the week’s ennui
And the fatigue
From daily television fanning such hate
And pockets full of daily chores
Are all done…

You are there
For me

On a day of rest
For us to love
For us to sin

Loving you
Like a Sunday
Comes with the wisdom
Of things that will linger
Only because
They must be gone

The rest of the world
Is but
Six days of inconsequential interim
To reach you

Poem by Vandana Kumar

Image by Adam Strong

Vandana Kumar is a French teacher, translator, recruitment consultant, Indie Film Producer, cinephile and poet in New Delhi, India. Her poems have been published in national and international websites of repute like ‘Mad Swirl’, ‘ ‘Grey Sparrow Journal’, ‘The Piker Press’,
‘Dissident Voice’, ‘Borderless journal’, ‘Madras Courier’, ‘Outlook’ ‘Ink Pantry’ etc. She has featured in literary journals like ‘Fine Lines’ and anthologies like ‘Harbinger Asylum’, ‘Kali Project’‘But You Don’t Look Sick’ etc. Her cinema articles appear regularly in ‘Just-cinema’ and
Daily Eye. Her debut collection of poems ‘Mannequin Of Our Times’ was published in February 2023.The book has been awarded The Panorama International Book Award 2023.

But how? Begs my blood 

How am i to keep going when I have 2 hearts and no one to give them 

How is this supposed to get better when for the longest time this was the dream 

The fairy tale ending 

How am I to keep living after the happy ever after

Poem by Ayla Bayli

Image by Adam Strong

Ayla Bayli (She/her) is a poet based everywhere; coming to you from in between planes and bedroom corners. her work has been published in magazines such as Snowflake Magazine, MiniMag, Trash to Treasure Lit and her universities Creative Society Zine. You can find her work and reading list @bayliwrites.

The days, cities, and people untold. The only constant was the singular purpose of those she met
with. Profit. At times she’d ponder how little she absorbed aside from what airport terminals to
avoid or the superior value of Wyndham’s rewards over Hilton’s.
She was a danger to herself in this assumed middle age, as she believed there would always be
time to drift into settings of wonder and speak with those who might flower her narrow
existence. Instead, she drained countless vodka tonics on trains and planes, losing sand from
every pocket.
An ad-hoc call with her husband debated “salad sandwiches.” She maintained chicken, eggs, and
potatoes should never be served cold; he admitted to the occasional hankering for egg salad on
rye—she wondered what other, more important bits she’d missed about him.
At a meeting she had little reason to attend 1,400 miles from home, Death sat beside her. After
collapsing into a boxed lunch, a handy defibrillator offered an epiphany…her remaining breaths were borrowed and no longer for sale.

Flash Fiction by Jeff Stone

Image by Adam Strong

Jeff Stone gave up a capitalist corpo career during the pandemic to write full-time. Years from now, many may call him a fool for doing so, but alas, that will be years from now. He resides among the Blue Ridge Mountains in Crozet, VA, with his family, and aside from 25+ years of writing ad copy, he is a newly published (Heimat Review, Intrepidus Ink, Alice Says Go F Yourself, Every Animal Project) writer of stories of whatever length they demand of him.

The pain and pleasure of delivering a poem
Carry more than nine months of pregnancy
They pass in one hour or two years,
Announcing a new cycle of hesitancy.
Words drip and create an embryo

In a womb of a winding road
With obstacles and prairies
They grow like trees in a forest
To form a picture that may be dark but honest.
They stagger in our heads, searching for a home
As if they’ve been traveling for days, unknown
Sometimes they dance to the music
And other times, they observe a passing crowd
Give them water for their roots can be
As powerful as the strongest typhoon
Yet as tender as the sweetest emotion.
Finally, they reach home and land on its pages
They are ready to leave their cages.
Between the ink that has dried
And the wetness of their desires
They sit waiting for their liberator
Wondering how they will transform
To become alive.

Poetry by Ramzi Albert Rihani

Image by Adam Strong

Ramzi Albert Rihani is a Lebanese American writer. His work has appeared in several publications in the US, Canada, UK, Ireland, India, China, and South Africa, including ArLiJo, Poetic Sun, Last Leaves Magazine, Cacti Fur Journal, Poetry Potion, The Piker Press, Active Muse, Ephemeral Elegies, and The Silent Journey Anthology. He is a published music critic. He wrote and published a travel book, “The Other Color”, and has been living in the Washington, DC, area.

Dad was drunk and didn’t notice me sliding my gingerbread pawn on the winding spaces
past Gumdrop Mountain. His eyes instead were on pictures of me on the fireplace mantel.

Pictures of me grimacing in a too-large soccer uniform as a ten-year-old. Of me on stage at my first dance recital, my arms raised over my head in a triumphant pose. Another
one of me tossing flower petals at my older sister’s wedding. His face reeked of disappointment.

Yeah, I cheated by moving my game piece out of turn, but I wanted to win. To make a point. Dad finally focused on the Candy Land board in dismay when I crossed the candy castle space. I waved my hand over the rainbow colors and announced, “Yeah, I’m gay.”

Flash by Keith Manos

Image by Adam Strong

Keith Manos has published twelve books to date, including his debut novel My Last Year of Life (in School). Keith’s short fiction has appeared in national print and online magazines like Attic Door Press, October Hill Magazine, Chagrin River Review, and Storgy, among others. Check out his website at www.keithmanos.com.

The way that morning air is peeled, chewed,
cored, pinched, pulped,
skins like blown plastic bags, petals snowing the rain
cradled by, snagged in burying disquiet;
the way we sang
discarded beer bottles rain-filled just right
at the dump. Each thing called its name
winged from the backs of pickups upended, emptied.
Names that sparrowed
while we lanked around after the glint of wings,
cages at the ready.
That air same air as this, decades later:
tetanus and treasure
voicing and listening for a reply,
every asking thing singing an impossible scale.

Poem by Matt Thomas

Photo by Adam Strong

Matt Thomas is a smallholder farmer and occasional community college teacher. His work has appeared recently in Dunes Review and Bluepepper. He lives with his partner in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. 

It’s the need to possess

that baffles me,

the need to own 

objects

of no decretive

or use value,

objects

destined to become 

encumbrances

sooner or later,

passive playthings

out of their time

moved on

into a time

when even the box,

it’s wrapping

and ribbons

fails to excite creativity.

Playthings 

destined to become 

encumbrances

sooner or later.

Ever sooner

as time

moves

on.

Poetry by Lynn White

Image by Adam Strong

Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her poetry is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. Find Lynn at: https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and bit.ly/3pUZpWe

Mia Amore Del Bando was born and raised in Long Beach, California. She featured in The Art of Everyone, Flora Fiction, Poets Choice, and others. Her poetry book Fragments of a Woman’s Brain published by Nymeria Publishing debuts in 2024. She is a faithful friend, difficult daughter, and selfish lover.