Feeding Horses and Other Things by Billie Hinton
When she walks out to the barn for the evening feed, what she notices first is how dark it is already, and how, with the darkness, a stillness sets in. Stillness is not the same as quiet. The soft but urgent whinny of the pony wanting dinner ripples from the front pasture, the drumbeat crunch crunch crunch crunch of hooves hitting fallen leaves begins as the herd files into the paddock. The pony and two donkeys stop at the gate that leads to their side of the barn. The two horses walk to their stall … Continue reading Feeding Horses and Other Things by Billie Hinton
Walnuts by Sharon Perkins Ackerman
They’re the last to disappear, along with hickory, spicing the ground from mid-autumn through December. I stumble over carpets of the fermenting harvest, some greasy and quick to roll an ankle if you aren’t careful. Juniper and Bittersweet, the other malingerers, droop along the walnut path leading to a new year. So often on these daily walks, I gaze around to see something I recognize, looking to the ground that remembers what happened here, last year and years before. Otherwise, the busy mind by habit, locks itself into its present worries, generally things that can’t … Continue reading Walnuts by Sharon Perkins Ackerman
Cheesecake by Con Chapman
Mark didn’t want to go to Jackie and Jonathan’s—he had too much studying to do before the end of the semester—but Marci insisted. “You can’t study all the time,” she said, but he was the only one of the four of them in graduate school, and was under pressures they weren’t. “Can we at least leave right after we eat?” he asked. “No walks in the woods this time?” Marci gave him a sideways glance. Getting back to Boston from the North Shore on a Sunday was never an easy drive, and the later you … Continue reading Cheesecake by Con Chapman
Ho Ho Streetlight by Trudy Hale
The season of Christmas swoops in, ahead of me and my best intentions. I’ll never be a person who has all the family and friends crossed off the list, gifts sweetly wrapped, silky ribbons, satiny bows. Lured by magazines’ designer fine table settings and sparkling trees, loaded with heirloom ornaments. Oh, well. I sat down, stared out my window at sunlight glittering across a barn’s metal roof. I scribbled and scribbled. I scribbled some more. What does it mean? Especially giving. The art of giving. Over the years, I have sometimes goofed with a gift. … Continue reading Ho Ho Streetlight by Trudy Hale
What is Happening?!? by Emily Littlewood
I used to laugh at my husband and call him old man (he’s nine years older) when he would reminisce on his childhood, and how much better it was than children’s lives growing up now. But I’ve started to yearn for previous days myself as this country descends further into chaos and mean-spiritedness. There has always been racism and misogyny and classism and religious prejudice in this country, but it feels like everyone is just letting their hate out as much as possible, in as many ways as possible, in the current climate. Self-interest has … Continue reading What is Happening?!? by Emily Littlewood
Puppet and Master by Karris Rae
X/@/20X÷ Today the puppeteer cut my strings. Then he left without a word. It feels strange to move my arms on my own. I opened every plastic pickle jar in the dollhouse, just to try them out. The pickles inside were frozen in clear acrylic. I always imagined it being liquid. My body is mine for the first time, but it doesn’t feel like it yet. Tomorrow, I’ll get scissors and a dotted line painted all down my arms. That way if anyone else ever wants to string me up again, they know I’ll … Continue reading Puppet and Master by Karris Rae
Hand Dancing in a 45 Speed Zone by Richard Allen Taylor
There is a hand dangling from the driver’s window of the car ahead, a sight seen less often on hot days like this, when most folks crank up the A/C and keep hands inside, but this one seems unbothered by the heat. It bounces and pulses, sometimes points fingers or twists the wrists, does a judo chop or makes a fist. I can’t hear the band it dances to, but try to imagine the music from the motion I see, something jazzy, jumpy, full of jive, nothing limp or frumpy about this music or this … Continue reading Hand Dancing in a 45 Speed Zone by Richard Allen Taylor
The Weight of Words by Fred Wilbur
A few years ago, a friend of mine was compelled to downsize as she moved from her cottage and asked if I would relieve her of a large dictionary and its slope-topped table. I said I would pick it up and did so in a matter of a few days. I was thankful; she was thankful. It is a Random House Unabridged Dictionary, 1966, with many reprint dates over the years. It measures 9 ½ inches by 12 and is 3 ½ inches thick. Too thick to grasp on the run. Not the OED, but … Continue reading The Weight of Words by Fred Wilbur
One Small Gift by Anne Merritt
I learned how mean boys could be on the school bus during my first week of third grade. It was the first year my sister, in kindergarten, was riding with me and I beamed as we walked to the bus stop at the end of our street. The leaves were starting to turn red in our small town, and the morning chill was fresh on my cheeks. I took her hand as she climbed up the steep steps of the bus, her pony tail bouncing along with her lunchbox. “Good morning, Mr. Jim,” I smiled. … Continue reading One Small Gift by Anne Merritt
The Things of This World by Michael Blanchard
More than one has said it: that love is of this world only the world of a willow reaching for a river as the river goes its way and of a nuthatch nesting in a beechwood tree as light devolves from day into night The true reckoning of this world is the way we come to know things twice in the wonder first and then the remembering the bitterroot blossom before it fades and everything else we lose but love anyway. A native of Baton Rouge, La., Michael Blanchard now lives in the Cadron Valley … Continue reading The Things of This World by Michael Blanchard