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Hunting the Cotaco Creek
by Charles Ghigna His hand in hold so trigger tight even its blood believes in ghosts. It clings with set finger on steel and waits inside a dream of ducks. The twilight gives into a rise of eastern sky as sun reveals herself too proud read more...
The Alabama Wiregrassers
by Charles Ghigna Dry rooted in penny coated clay, the wiregrassers come suntan tamed in drawl through the mire faster. Machetes high aimed for home, they carry the clues of day across their open, flying clothes. Blade read more...
Baseball Dreams
by Charles Ghigna In memory of Jack Marsh, second baseman, Yale University, 1943 Before the bayonet replaced the bat, Jack Marsh played second base for Yale; his spikes anchored into the August clay, his eyes set deep read more...
Shacks on Highway 231, Along the High Red Clay Embankments
By Bonnie Roberts These words are for those who never wrote a word, or sang a song, or thought a great thought, or invented something, or made something lasting. These words are for those who lived extraordinary read more...
Auger and Old Shoes
by Eric Smith I. On her rocker’s each forward pitch she glimpses the scuffed toes of shoes down the hall, read more...
My South
By Doris Gabel Welch My South is
POISON LEAVES
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POISON LEAVES (PART TWO)
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