Tag: stories

Photo by Samuel Svec on Unsplash

The Singing Lake

1 January 2026 /

Poetry by Sandra Hosking

Sacheen Lake sings in winter
Though its surface is still
It sounds like a hammer on a metal roof
A rap on a hollow oaken door
A ghost desperate to escape the attic

The lake wants to tell you a story
It knocks, it bangs, it reverberates
Tales of fallen fishermen
An osprey dropping its prey
Splashing children
A lost oar, floating free

It holds these memories
Beneath its frozen shell
Until the sun returns
To release them

Sandra Hosking is a Pushcart-nominated poet, playwright, and photographer in the Pacific Northwest. Her chapbook, Forces of Nature, was recently published by Dancing Girl Press. Her work has appeared in The Ana, Red Ogre, Havik, Black Lion Review, and more. She holds M.F.A. degrees in theatre and creative writing. Visit sandrahosking.com.

Photo by Tommaso Pecchioli on Unsplash

Priced to Go

7 August 2024 /

Poetry by Michael Lyle

our yard-sale discards
shabby in daylight’s glare
only undo me
when I spot treasure—

twiggy high chair
where grandparents fed
during mother’s recovery,
like graying cardinals
on a final nest—

sturdy wooden rocker,
where little limbs
rehearsed dancing,
hello and goodbye

folding lawn chair
with one missing web
beckoning rest,
a soak of sun

impressioned recliner
from beside the window
still ready to hold a wave
like a child
sighting a parade,

all priced to go
like yellow goslings
straying an open field
under a hawk’s hungry eye

Michael Lyle is the author of the poetry chapbook, The Everywhere of Light, and his poems have appeared widely, including Atlanta Review, The Carolina Quarterly and Poetry East. Michael is an ordained minister and lives in Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains. Visit him at http://www.michaellylewriter.com.

windowsill with globe and plant
Photo by Rafael Gonzales on Pexels.com

My Old Air Conditioner

3 December 2022 /
Special Selection for the 2022/2023 Winter Holiday Issue

Poetry by Briena Sohns

I drove past the house,
Two months after we sold it.

Only glancing up for a second,
I saw they still had my old air conditioner,
Perfectly positioned in the window.

Would they remember to take it out?
When the fall leaves start to christen?

My white curtains still hung,
But I wonder if she shuts the blinds at night.

Glow in the dark stars still glued above the bed,
But I wonder if they sparkle in her eyes.

She would never know the stories behind them.

But maybe it’s better that way.
Simply left behind,

Like my old air conditioner.

Briena Sohns is the author of “Winter Nights” published in The Catskill Review. She attends Palm Beach Atlantic University studying Communication and English. Her most recent accomplishment is being hired as a Resident Assistant in Baxter Hall. Though she now resides in Florida, she was raised in Upstate New York.

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