The stories and poems in this section may be most appropriate for young adult readers, but have something that can be enjoyed by everyone.
We went to the arboretum.It was almost winter, and the blushOn your cheeks made you look youngerThan you had in a long time. I was hoping the maple leavesCould breathe fire back into your eyes,And heal the sickness nestledDeep within your bones. The...
Once a yearOr three or seven years,I come back to you,Like the waves being pulled back to seaOn the shadowy Shandong beaches You took me to when I was a kid.Now you speak a foreign language.It’s all garbled to me, like foam,Or the racket of washing...
At night you can missthe sound of wind chimes,unless a gust calls onthem to answer louder,and through an open windowentire civilizations of languageare lost because no one repliesor is heard. But the hum of rain can bringa world to life again-I...
The brightest stars swirl with undeniable gravity,drawing us in unwittingly, until they collapse, becoming supernovas that rock our world,sending stellar ripples of shock and disbelief, or eternally flashing pulsars,like lighthouse beams sweeping...
Grandma, there will be a day,when the sounds I playwon’t be for your smiles.but ratherto remember you.Acerbic tones float from my cellowill mirror the sting of loss winding aroundmy griefwhile sap-dusted strings wail andburrow into my fingers.How...
Inspired by Brenda Miller’s “Split” Here is what I know about my body: I live in a balled-up fist with mind and guts spilling out between the cracks of callused, experienced fingers, dripping onto wooden floors until I have been squeezed and wrung...
The moon surges and falls, plucksThe tide with velvet fingersFor eternity, and yet the flaxen sand twistsWithin its glass cage. The hourglassswells with corpses. The silkenviolin’s lullaby titillates, floodsThe feverish air. The devilish...
A helicopter took off on Mars, yesterday,and landed too–the important bit. Flightis the grey space, the distance betweentwo points, takeoff, landing, but it isn’t flightwithout those two bookends–it’s nothing,or a fall. Today, we walked Highland...
The trouble with being five years old is trying to get adults to listen to you. And the trouble with adults is that they don’t remember what it was like to be five years old. When you are angry or frustrated, they tell you that it’s because you are...
Every day I woke fearing the sea. Fear made my shoulders slump. It soured my mouth and released acid in my stomach. Seeing my pinched face across the breakfast table, mother’s eyes shone with tears. She reminded me, “Arlith, you were happy...