Red Eft Review
▼
Tuesday, April 30, 2024

Ignoring Rough Weather by Martha Christina

›
Because the sun is shining, we ignore the forecast, ignore the gathering clouds we can't identify by name: cumulous? cumulonimbus? Nor d...
Monday, April 29, 2024

The Latest News by Martha Christina

›
A squirrel monopolizes the feeder, eating as if the cylinder were filled solely for its nourishment although the seeds are labeled "Wil...
Sunday, April 28, 2024

Wrong by Martha Christina

›
I mistake the small moth, wings folded, unmoving, for a bit of dried leaf stem in the basin; but when I reach to remove it, it opens its win...
Wednesday, April 17, 2024

in the hotel, on the eve of district playoffs by Natalie Schriefer

›
the others are sleeping. through a slit in the curtain you watch the rain. past midnight, it peters off like an ellipsis, the silence betwee...
Tuesday, April 16, 2024

Honey Bee by Ruth Holzer

›
You stagger on the stepping stone, losing strength in autumn’s chill. At times you tumble over on your back, and struggle to right yourself ...
Sunday, April 14, 2024

Foraging by Frank C. Modica

›
Grandpa knew the best places to gather bundles of dandelion leaves to feed his family. He bypassed easier pickings closer to home, trash-pol...
4 comments:
Saturday, March 30, 2024

Pretty Hard to Know by Jeffrey Zable

›
Watching an old movie from the 40’s in which every one of the actors--except for maybe the kid--has passed on, a question comes to mind: Wha...
1 comment:
Thursday, March 21, 2024

Gifts from a Neighbor by David Q. Hutcheson-Tipton

›
Dwayne moved home to help his aging parents. We’d have Cokes on their porch. After a beach week they brought us salt-water taffy. Dwayne’s s...
Saturday, March 16, 2024

Marking Time by Howie Good

›
Almost the first thing I do in the morning is take a bunch of pills, usually with my coffee, but sometimes with the sordid remains of a glas...
1 comment:
Thursday, March 14, 2024

Emergence by Sarah Russell

›
Today I saw a single silky thread from aspen to eaves. I traced it and watched a spider, backlit by the sun, weaving precise gossamer tendri...
Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Autumn by Sarah Russell

›
Sugar maples are the first to turn, mottled orange and scarlet with the green, trying on the season. I need a sweater now for morning walks....
1 comment:
Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Ode to My Purse by Sarah Russell

›
The one that’s 10 years old — its leather soiled and supple, lining grayed by a thousand ins and outs of billfolds, keys, candy. The purse f...
Wednesday, March 6, 2024

Textures by Ahrend Torrey

›
Do we only live when the big promotion is given? Do we only live when the awful day comes, and the ambulance arrives, and everyone’s gathere...
Tuesday, March 5, 2024

The End is Music by A.R. Williams

›
Cascading water pours over rocks vested in moss, whispering to me like a mother soothing her child. At a distance, a visitor crunches throug...
Monday, March 4, 2024

Gratitude List #48 by Ace Boggess

›
Forgive me when I praise my wealth of aspects not yet praised: aches in back, ankles, knees of which I complain to have something to say whe...
Sunday, March 3, 2024

With Six Grandsons Behind the Wheel by Sharon Waller Knutson

›
The call we fear we're going to get comes while we’re eating popcorn and watching television in the evening. It’s our oldest son who jus...
Monday, February 19, 2024

When We Were Younger by Martha Christina

›
I’m beginning to shuffle, my older sister says in our weekly long distance phone call. Remember how Mom always yelled ‘pick up your feet’ as...
Sunday, February 18, 2024

Waiting by Martha Christina

›
Small songbirds crowd the feeders: finches, a pair of Carolina wrens, a solitary junco. Three squirrels join them at the old stump, strewn w...
Saturday, February 17, 2024

A Gift by Martha Christina

›
On his birthday my friend, Michael, will have an MRI. His neurologist wants to affirm or rule out suspected Parkinson’s. For now, his diagno...
Sunday, February 11, 2024

Reunion by Steve Deutsch

›
Mom and Dad loved lupine, but couldn’t control it. Year after year, they’d plant the finest seeds in the finest soil but it bloomed where it...
1 comment:
‹
›
Home
View web version
Powered by Blogger.