Today is Friday, Aug. 7, 2015


I am a Flash Flood

I am from houses washed away, mud, metal, water, and rocks coming down on the road. Trees, cabins, and hay barns; other houses are destroyed, too. And it brought a lot of logs down to the road.


By Ryan Brennan Snow falls a silent curtain ice turns the world to glass darkness falls suddenly and black shadows become a deep pool he is out there searching for food or for shelter solitary and seldom seen he remains a mystery then the day comes a blinding glare he settles back in his protective...

The Fog

(With apologies to Carl Sandberg) By Aristides Pappidas The fog comes on elephantine feet. Somnolently looking over the river, with ham-sized thighs it sits where it wants to then reluctantly moves on to visit the next day and the next and the next. Aristides Pappidas lives in Winthrop

Fury of fire

By Ryan Brennan, July 2014

I gaze at the destruction and ruin of the landscape

I can feel the hot breath of smoke beneath my skin

Haunted shapes flutter on the edge of the horizon

Begging us to join their dance of hell


By Sam Owen

between Cougar Flats and Rising Eagle

looking south and east and back to south

weather vane’s tedious turning predicts

which way I’ll drive outta here, cat

squawling in the back of the car

Fire Summer

By Julie Tate-Libby

It was the summer of fire
not one, but many
so many
you thought the whole valley would burn
gone up together like some of sort of
end-of-the-world rapture.


By Tamara (Dicus) Hillman

How can this be—in one fell swoop,
only memories remain
of places I so cherished
and would visit once again?
Now only devastation,
ash, and cinders lie
where once I spent my childhood—

Where I’m From

By Marina Bianchi

I am from tall mountains, and pristine rivers

from badminton games on the lawn I helped grow myself,

from snow forts and tree forts and a love of the earth

I am from bad jokes and seal laughs,

I am from “try it, it’s new” and “never give up”