This is a photograph of newlyweds.Poetry by John GreyIt’s not a snapshot of everything going forward.As much as I study the faces,I see no births, no growing family.Poetry by John Grey April 4th, 2020 at 01:59pm No Children in the Picture John Grey Poetry Continue reading
March 27th, 2020 at 07:31am New Life for Old Things Patricia Crisafulli Original Short Fiction Continue reading
February 24th, 2020 at 04:31pm The Blizzard of ’66: A Kid’s Dream Come True Eileen Sienkiewicz Essay Continue reading
December 24th, 2019 at 08:54am When Heaven & Earth Shall Sing Patricia Crisafulli Holiday Fiction Continue reading
Around them swirled the cold wind and snow of a storm on a late December evening.He was twelve years old and a street person. You could tell by the boy's dirty-looking clothes. The boy cried, “My father has left me. My father has gone.”Samuel looked at the boy John and saw the faint golden light around the boy’s head.Tom Sheehan December 22nd, 2019 at 07:05pm The Boy with the Golden Ring Tom Sheehan Holiday Fiction Continue reading
November 3rd, 2019 at 10:25am Bright Harvest with Quickened Pulse Patricia Crisafulli Tricia’s Blog Continue reading
