It’s made of green plastic but thick and heavy, translucent, poured into a mold. Seated in lotus, palms resting upward, hair in little curls...

& because you expect a poem about Minneapolis I’ll mention the Cherry on Spoon, crooked stars dotting First Ave; a drunkalogue about a b...

I’ve stood at low tide with my frizzy hair puffing, looking for starfish. I could never find them, with their simple eyes, like everyone els...

The television grumbles, plane crash off the coast, computer hackers, trouble in Israel and Iran. Newspapers lie on the floor. Out in the da...

Somewhere over the Pacific, wrapped in one of those thin airline blankets that never quite cover your whole body, I realized I was falling f...

The nearby village promised revelry— and there would be music, of course, a neat paso doble perhaps and the Aserejé, the 'ketchup song....

There with a scattering of his things, an old tie tack, a spelling medal, his lieutenant’s bars from the war, was the torn corner of an inde...

Babies build with blocks only to knock them down. They don’t circle their creation or ask for admiration. Instead, they giggle when the towe...

My pen poised above the pink rose on a card, I pause before writing standard sentiments, the way I always do, the way people did for me. Yes...

A reminder call to write each day and to read what we love and we should heed the call as well we know we should not need this nudge this to...

In my imagination I was in Berlin, riding a tram through the pale afternoon, the buildings whispering history through cracked paint. I ca...

My husband’s dentist has this giant poodle named Ned that sits as still as a statue on the golf cart seat, his profile regal, his fur flappi...

The goals I never chased Dreamcatcher Gareth Nurden is a haikuist from Newport, Wales and has had several hundred pieces published in ninete...

The Swift River, taking with it whatever it can carry, bringing nothing back— along with my adult daughter, I crossed dry-shod by means of a...

the first snow smelled like white crayons eight nine ten eight nine ten those coats are watching me yesterday I lost the red petunia All the...

What my mother called the family of greens she stabbed with her fork. She ate with determination, as though this might be her last meal. She...

The last time I saw you in this world, it was in the darkened living room. It was about three in the morning when, half passed-out on the co...

I’ve a habit – an unfortunate one, according to others – of leaving the house without my cell phone. Later I’ll run into someone who’ll say,...

          -for Dana I blamed a deviated septum, blamed the nightmares left over from the war, you blamed the alcohol and my restless twitchi...

He swears to his wife that snow hits the ground with a scraping sound, none of that silent night stuff most people talk about in a winter s...