Bethany Reid

His Neck Slashed

the murdered man staggered
from the bed to the dresser
and stood, astonished, where each night
for thirty years he had emptied
his pockets of coins and keys—
staring now into the mirror as his life
drained from him, his soul
draped like a pair of silk stockings
over his wife’s vanity table,
after a while, lifting and drifting
into the afterlife without him.

To learn more about Bethany Reid, visit her blog at

Keith Nunes

Lake as an empty symbol

Songs tell of the lake as a subsisting pool of spiritual joy
but lately echoes carry far
into the hollows of the empty lake
and the trout are screaming.

Keith Nunes lives beside Lake Rotoma in NZ, gets published and is/was a former newspaper sub-editor, drunk, gambler and self-destructive nut-job.

Robert Lee Whitmire

I’m Sure

moons fly by faster now,
propelled by cold white fire,
or perhaps that’s just cataracts
braiding moon glades in my eyes.

Robert Lee Whitmire is a retired journalist and photographer and currently is employed as a grandfather and nascent poet.

Victoria Nordlund


The regret of these words not said
sits crossed-legged in my throat
like a piece of chicken I can’t quite swallow.

Victoria Nordlund is a high school English teacher who also writes poetry.


Victoria Nordlund


The skin of each
minute peels away
baring the hours
as I watch
the clock
grow slowly
toward morning
and I am still here
left with a fleshless
finished pit.

Victoria Nordlund is a high school English teacher who also writes poetry.