Inheritance

Maria Ceferatti

When I look at my nine year- old son, I see my husband’s face. His square jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, his light brown hair, his delicate, perfectly proportioned nose.

Gardener

Katy Diana

A stony man
fiddled green
in the swallow’s fire.

As air slipsighed,
bent his knee nowhere
and flew.

Communion

Jim Zervanos

Persephone Samaras can’t wait to escape the oppressive heat of the pizza ovens. She’s off to see her cousin Vasili in the hospital, that sterile, air-conditioned sanctuary.

Pincushion Letters

Barry Dinerman

Seconds after my mother died, she began work in heaven on a little play titled “Naked in Bed with Eleanor Roosevelt.”