Gazing out the window, I observe the teal ocean. Its waves thrash against the biggest rocks I’ve ever seen, but in its violence, I see only beauty. Read More →
I watched the water. It was still. No ripples, no waves, no tides. No fish of any kind. It was not a pond, a stream, an ocean, or a lake. It was a pot. A pot filled with water. And then it began to bubble, and then it began to boil. And I made soup. However, I had no carrots, no cabbage, no cucumbers. No vegetables of any kind. It was not a broth, nor a bouillon, neither a bisque or a consommé. It was water. It was all I had. So I drank it. Read More →
PoemAge 14Published August 14, 2023by Beatrice Milasan
Gazing out the window, I observe the teal ocean. Its waves thrash against the biggest rocks I’ve ever seen, but in its violence, I see only beauty. Read More →
PoemAge 12Published August 8, 2023by Zar Rezwan Pavri
I watched the water. It was still. No ripples, no waves, no tides. No fish of any kind. It was not a pond, a stream, an ocean, or a lake. It was a pot. A pot filled with water. And then it began to bubble, and then it began to boil. And I made soup. However, I had no carrots, no cabbage, no cucumbers. No vegetables of any kind. It was not a broth, nor a bouillon, neither a bisque or a consommé. It was water. It was all I had. So I drank it. Read More →