Author: ayamew

calling home — Ayame Whitfield

bridges collapse and highway exits burn.three hundred miles of razor wire / glass / salt. i call home at two a.m. and only the silencepicks up. i’m the…

Winter Pond — Isabella Chung

Snowflakes gracefully hit the groundCrushed conifer cones lay scattered Smoke drifts away from warm bodies One man grabs his metallic circular shades Reflection of thoughts trapped in two framesLowering them, he…

Salt and Bone — Mel Hornyak

The Traveller washed ashore on the eighth of June with the southern wind.  We call it the change-wind, a fickle god of luck that tosses ships around as…