“Don’t go looking for my tractor.” John Peters was known around town for being a very level-headed and practical man. He’d always have explanations for the strange things. Howls at night?
Brady Scott stood in the center of a smoky battlefield, surrounded by soldiers and superheroes. A figure emerged from the smoke—a glowing man in a green uniform. Brady recognized him—the Human
Staring at the mirror, I see a slimy something wearing broken pieces of a rotten ribcage, calcified skin clinging to the curves and the grooves and the cracks. Flesh sags off the face
My eternal calling is an artist, And my life’s work goes mostly unnoticed. Maybe you’ll spot ink on my fingertips From my pen that carries songs from seasons, Scratching words soon
Who is my father to me? Old Chevy truck, jumbled toolbox, Knicks and knacks, garage full of sawdust. Peanut shells on the floor and shelves —endless Pringle cans of bent nails. Empty hook
“Daddy, Daddy, I can’t see.” I reached up expectantly And looked into my tall dad’s face. Hoped to find on him a place To see what he could see, When I
A Light clothed once in darkness, A Hope put once to death, A Faith that once was shaken, A God who had no breath, A moan among the angels, A tremor in the
White wisps carried by the wind, Float uncharted trajectories, Waiting to be released back To the ground below–– Where wish-makers continue to blow. Lessons I’ve learned, Courage I’ve sought, Carried to