Drops of time
Flow from the tap of life
Ever so slowly, at first
Then more quickly
Today they are a steady flow
My life is a force
I cannot slow down
As it races toward the unknown
I know it will run dry
Then I will only have goodbyes
Mary has written poetry since age ten and continues to write poems and short stories of human interest.
Round and round she twists golden hair
About her skittish fingers.
She twists my life around her whims
in dizzying fashion
Oh, I love the ride!
“Go on! Do it again!”
I command with a grin
My eyes swivel and I twirl like Toto,
In the vortex of her affections.
DL Rokvic is a business writer who enjoys creating poetry, has volunteered overseas, and cares about conservation.
She was crazy, but not like others
She had the madness of a woman who lives as if every day were Friday
She was the one who thought that betting on her was better than going to a casino
She was the one who had never regretted anything
Candela Martinez wrote this story.
Is it finally over? Whatever this was?
Not dating, not friendship… It’s giving me pause.
I am angry. Hurt. But not that upset.
I wonder, was it love? And will I forget?
Not that long ago, I seem to recall,
Still had that nice flutter feeling,
Do you? At all?
Michelle is an award-winning author and poet. She is a contributor in the most recent Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Spirit of Canada, and a quarter finalist in the 2017 ScreenCraft Short Screenplay contest. Her writing has appeared in The Globe and Mail, (one of Canada’s National newspapers) and a number of local magazines and newspapers including The Briar Crier, Total Sports, Voice of the Farmer, Arts Talk and Focus 50 Plus. Her short story “Lightning Strikers” (also featured on Commuter Lit) was made into a series in the Focus 50 + Newspaper because fans asked for more! This year, Michelle won the Ontario Writers Conference Story Starter Contest in two categories. You can find her online at commuterlit.com, fiftywordstories.com, femininecollective.com, michelledinnick.com and @MichelleDinnick.
Just take a minute, it’s all we ask
We rose as one, fulfilled our task
Remember what we did and why
No need to mourn, feel guilt or cry
No need to seek revenge, or hate
Just take one minute, we can wait
Just one minute,
It’s all we ask
Paul Hock is an author, songwriter, and storyteller from Ontario, Canada. See more at paulhockpublishing.com.
Editor: Posted with my apologies for missing November 11 by a week and a half.
She seduces me each September—
warm summer kisses
tasting of frost and smoke;
her voluptuous dance,
flamboyant raiment discarded
piece by piece,
revealing more and more of bewitching nakedness.
But it always ends the same—icy tears each December.
Still, I know I
Tony Jasnowski teaches English at Bellevue University. Can there be any doubt which season is his favorite?
Fighting for country, fighting for principles. Someone’s child, showing determination to sacrifice and make a difference.
Perhaps, long ago, a gardener who loved the colors of fall. Perhaps a devoted parent, raising kind-hearted children. Perhaps a teacher, leading young minds toward wisdom.
Now, known but to God.
The Unknown Soldier.
Sandra Siegienski enjoys writing science fiction/fantasy and young adult fiction. Her focus ranges from novels to six-word story contests.
The aged apple tree is barren as days become colder.
The sweet aroma of cider, from remaining windfall fruit, floats on a chilly breeze that ruffles through brittle leaves still clinging to gnarled branches.
I have gleaned all I can, leaving behind a harvest feast for deer who visit nightly.
Candace Kubinec posts her stories at storydribbles.wordpress.com and her poetry at rhymeswithbug.com.
Soul-pain and heartache of days that are gone:
festering things fed by dread and dismay
pounding dark avalanche rolls on and on.
I am its echo, recording per se,
an hour’s background static in the green aisle
rumbling I’ve NOTHING TO DECLARE. Make way
For this humble outmoded cassette tape.
Irish writer Perry McDaid lives in Derry under the brooding brows of Donegal hills which he occasionally hikes in search of druidic inspiration. He even finds it on occasion.
A half cup of coffee on the top of the car. Another morning beginning beyond the yard, the hearts, and the heads of most practical men.
A half cig smoked waiting for the head to start. Another drive waiting. The familiar future. That gentle wind that pushes us forever forward.
Patrick Mc Loughlin is an English Language Teacher in Ireland and dabbles in writing. He also dabbles in painting and music and someday hopes to do more than dabble. He lives in the west of Ireland, where it’s hard to concentrate.