Broken Glass
Carver Lawson, Special Projects Manager
I’ve realized recently that I rely on my sense of sight too much.
I’m so fascinated by the image in front of me that I don’t notice my posture is craning my neck,
and I don’t feel how my body is knotting up from spending all day analyzing the feedback from my eyes,
and I don’t feel the emptiness in my stomach and the headache from my hunger,
and I couldn’t sense how my spirit was dead and dry because my fixation was futile,
and it all didn’t even occur to me until I felt every sensation hit me in one go.
The Storyteller
Austin Price, Editor in Chief
There was a great storyteller
Who told tales of you and me
The sweet songbird of literature
Who relied on his ABC’s
Rain on the Roof
Austin Price, Editor in Chief
The rain patters on the tin roof
Split, splatter, split, splatter
Continuous pounding of cool water
Onto old, rickety metal
The Forest: Destruction
Carver Lawson, Special Projects Manager
The lumberjack visited my forest often,
I’d see him sweetly swing that axe
and for miles you could hear the thundering whack.
Purple Sea
Austin Price, Editor in Chief
Lavender blue
Lavender green
Those are the colors
Of the purple sea