Poetry
To the Butterfly
By Johanne LaRoque When you were a tiny oval thing Adhering to a leaf Were you afraid Of those seeking you to eat? The ants,
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Poetry
What it comes down to…
By Cynthia Swan Driving from my son’s home to my own After a late night babysitting my grandson, I drop into the stream of my
Poetry
An Old Navy Man
By Johanne LaRocque His coffee tastes of freshly tarred driveway Burning nostrils, stinging eyes, feeding Tendrils of bitterness sprouting from Inky black grounds of