Falling From The Sky

In the Arctic North, a flock of snow geese were all aflutter. It was time for them to fly south. They gracefully ascended on the Arctic winds.

The birds flew through the ribbons of primary-colored lights adorning the vast sky.

Further south, a very strange sight appeared above them. Falling through the sky, a human with man-made wings was flailing his arms as a flurry of feathers erupted in all directions.

A group of the geese flew to the man, clutched the wooden wing frames, and escorted him gently to the ground.

"May Zeus reward your kindness," said the man.

From Guest Contributor Deborah Shrimplin

Life In The Country

A rainbow fills the sky with blue, yellow and red colors, the vibrancy a sign it’s going to be a beautiful day. The birds chirp and soar above, their wings spread, adding to the calm of the setting.

I have the blanket and picnic ready for when he arrives, and the delicious aroma of fried chicken and ribs make my mouth water.

I throw pieces of bread into the pond for the ducks as they quack, swim, and cool in the water.

I left the city for the tranquil life of the country and I don’t regret it.

Not ever.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Spring

Spring is wonderful in Michigan. The snow melt signals that the warm weather has arrived. Flowers begin to bloom. Birds and squirrels appear out of nowhere, ready to embrace the new growth all around.

Jenny steps outside, bracing for the biting wind, only to realize she has on too many layers. Her watch says it's 60 degrees, the warmest day of the year so far. When she moved to Kalamazoo for grad school, she'd worried the winters would be too intense. Growing up in Atlanta, she was seven the first time she saw snow.

The only problem: It's January 12th.

You Know Birds

“Look, Ed. the Sun's coming out.”

“The Sun, huh?”

Actually, it had been out, fusing protons into helium nuclei in its core. Daily, unendingly, for billions of years, it kept at it. Cloud cover had temporarily blocked Edna's view.

“Look at the trees. Let's go out on the patio, Ed.”

Squinting, she turned from the window.

“But the birds in the trees like to crap on me, Edna.”

It was true. They aimed for Ed's head especially.

“Yeah, Ed. But they'll hold off.”

“What?”

“Your hair's a mess...You know birds. They'd rather splatter you after your shampoo, not now.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

The Wait

I woke up early and went for a jog. As I followed the path through the park, I listened to nature. The sounds of the birds singing, and the squirrels running up trees were a sign of early spring. It was an unusually hot day in March, so the park benches were filled with people. I had water in my pouch and took a sip. It felt good going down into the pit of my stomach.

After, I sat I checked my phone. There it was, the message I had been waiting for.

My first novel was accepted for publication.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Day At The Park

The fresh scent of flowers fills the air with sweetness. Diana takes a deep breath and relishes the moment, strolling through the park listening to the children play and the birds sing, the warm breeze against her face. She finds a bench, sits, puts her reading glasses on, and takes out her book. She takes a sip of water and begins reading, enthralled in the story, content with the sun on her face, when the cell phone rings.

Diana closes the novel, rushes to the car, and drives to the hospital to say goodbye to her father, her only family.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Perfect Spring Day

Rob stares out the window at two young girls playing jump rope while their mother and grandmother cheer. The girls are chortling and clapping without a care.

The birds swoop overhead, and leaves blow in the light breeze. It’s the perfect spring day.

It becomes too hot by the window, so Rob backs away.

“Hello son. Let’s go outside. The doctor says the fresh air will do you good.”

Rob nods and wheels his chair toward the door. His dad pushes him the rest of the way.

The girls will be jumping rope, while he looks on from his wheelchair.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Repose

The warmth of the spring sun filled my body with repose. I laid back and looked up at the sky. The blueness bright and cheery awakened my eyes to ebullience.

I let the small rowboat drift on its own while the sound of ducks quacked and flapped their wings bathing in the lake. Nature was all around me. Birds chirped, on the shore frogs hopped, crabs crawled on the sand, and tree leaves quietly blew in the slight breeze.

I closed my eyes and soaked it all in, storing every sound and image in my mind.

Tomorrow, I start anew.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Crossroads

A skinny young guy, carrying a battered guitar case slung over his shoulder like a cotton picker’s sack, went down to the crossroads to catch a ride. The folks at home wouldn’t ever hear from him again. Rumors took the place of news – that he’d been shot and killed over a gambling debt, that he’d been lynched by a white mob, that he played guitar on the Chitlin’ Circuit with such violent energy that gravestones fell over and broke and that’s why now, every day around dawn, birds resume singing a centuries-old murder ballad specifically for our continued moral instruction.From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie's newest poetry collection, Heart-Shaped Hole, which also includes examples of his handmade collages, is available from Laughing Ronin Press.

The Same

The birds flew by

as the wind blew past.

Cars come cruising, crossing coastlines.

They're the same.

Birds fly free with the ocean breeze

and the cars follow along to their graceful flight.

They're the same, together in the light.

One flies,

one drives.

They're the same.

An endless road.

An infinite sky.

They're the same.

It's no race,

they're at the same pace.

The road twists and the car does not slow.

The bird resists the wind and flies high.

They're the same.

The road is black and yellow,

and the sky is blue and white.

They're the same.

From Guest Contributor Daniel Duong