You Call Yourself a Writer

by Ronald J. Hoffman Your hands are shaking as you button your collar tight. You lift your chin to the wind to blow away the smoke. You flick your butt into the creek imagining what things were like before you were broke. The life you lead would be no comfort to the person you were…

Tangled Treasures (While I Sweep)

I can see your portrait in a corner, in the dust hear your voice shrill as door hinges alive with rust time can’t steal your features as the car rolls down the hill Your arms pressed forward and your head snapped back froze in a pose that can never look back. I find your silhouette,…

The Old Horse

The old horse is led from the stable and taken behind the barn where he is fed dry hay and given a pale of water. But he is disinterested, dropping to roll instead and thrashing from the pain strangling his stomach. Mike the Vet has come to this farm nearly thirty years to tend the…