Crisis of Middle Age

by Norman Jones

Poem


1692 Salem

by Larry Connelly

Poem


America’s Daughters and Sons

by Anthony Ramirez

Poem


Death's Door Knocking

by Lawrence Rahn

Poem


My Vietnam Story

by Albert Hernandez

Prose


The Best of Intentions

by Tony Craidon

Prose


WILLOW WAS HER NAME

By Neal Lesh, Army

Writing Type: Poem

Under tall oak trees, the summer breeze, blows gently through her hair.
With her quiet sighs, and soft blue eyes, I couldn’t help but stare.

She noticed me, and I could see, her face all flushed with shame.
It was very clear, I fell in love right here, and “Willow” was her name.

Through a summer rain, we walked the lane, not far from where we met.
We knew for sure, our love was pure, as pure as love can get.

The autumn wind, caused trees to bend, as it swept down where we stood.
She caught a chill and soon took ill.
The outlook wasn’t good.

The winter’s snow, began to blow, and shadows filled the day.
A love so strong though not for long -- in spring she passed away.

One shouldn’t cry for sad good-byes, be happy just the same.
‘Cause I can’t forget the one I met, and “Willow” was her name.

Under tall oak trees, a summer breeze, blows gently through her hair.
Through mist-filled eyes, I still hear her sighs; how I wish that she were there.

Though the years progress, my one happiness would be to hold her just the same.
As I did then,
I’d do again, and “Willow” was her name.

.. And I’ll never be the same.

Notes: Mary Ellen Zemanek

Anna and the Boys

by Larry Connelly

Poem


Footloose Days

by Anthony Ramirez

Poem


The Power of Color

by James Camera

Prose


Passage of Solitude

by James Camera

Array


Another Wannabe

by Katherine Iwatiw

Poem


Coping With the Pain

by James Janssen

Prose