Nor’easter—Diane Kendig
Drip
Trickle
Amickling
slim rivulet
running, then running…
Streaking Rain, Bus Window, France—Roger Camp
***Roger Camp is the author of three photography books including the award winning Butterflies in Flight, Thames & Hudson selected by the Associated Press and NBC Today Show in their recommended books of… Continue reading
Quiver–Wendy Biller
OLD WOMAN: Make yourself comfortable. Welcome to Luna’s Massage palace.
LUCINDA: (Timid) Thank you.
OLD WOMAN: Take off your robe, if you desire. Then slide into the bed…
OUR FLOOD–Dennis Vannatta
It began to rain in the night, and it continued to rain hard all morning, so of course it was going to flood. East Fork Creek would break out first, where it always breaks out first, on the Brenners’ place where the creek curves around their soybean field…
The Tempest Bar–Susan Horowitz
SCENE: A Caribbean Bar with a small table and two chairs. On the table is a cocktail shaker. Caribbean music is playing. LIBBY, a tourist, enters, looking frazzled and talking
on her cell phone….
Raven Clouds—Cathy Joyce Lee
Hands in my hair
holding my head
hurricanes blowing
leaves that are dead…
The Last Dance–Glenn Terlecki
The Last Dance is a play about love, life, and loss. The story unfolds by the ocean and is told through the enduring spirits of two mature palm trees that stand side by side as a major hurricane makes landfall…
The Sound of Flowers–HUINA ZHENG
She said that every dawn in the greenhouse she could almost hear hundreds of buds opening at once. And every evening at home, I imagined the paper flowers I folded being slid into a furnace somewhere…
The Storm—Joseph A. Miller
***Joseph A. Miller is an Associate Professor of Art at S.U.N.Y. Buffalo State University, where he has taught drawing and painting since 1997. Miller’s work is in numerous public and private collections, and… Continue reading
Carapace–Marco Etheridge
Consider a world gone mad. My homeland slipping into chaos. Masked agents shooting
civilians in the streets. I am but one small human being, unimportant, unremarked…
Winter Storm Advisory—Katherine Edgren
The Weather Bug says twelve to seventeen
for this zip code. We knew the cold was coming
but this is news….
Summer Snow—Tina Nakae
There, upon the mountain
the fairy queen dances a jig
arms half up, half out, her quick yip sound echoes up to the sun yellow
of balsamroot blooms…
27 Degrees–Matthew Moore
SAM: And you used to live here?
JORDAN: Yeah.
SAM: Crazy.
JORDAN: Back in, um, like…Well. A few years ago…
While the Quiet Guides Obscurely—Alex Missall
Thunder sounds
now
(like a division
somewhere
beyond
this rolled-
back,
barbwire opening…
BETWEEN THE TIDE AND SKY–PLAMEN VASILEV
The sea had always been a confidante for Maren.Growing up in the quiet coastal town of Sealight, she had spent more evenings than she could count sitting on the rocks, watching waves batter themselves to pieces on the shore…
Storm Cloud—David Blumenfeld/Paula K. Eubanks
The storm cloud, huge, black, ominousadvanced over the empty beach like a devilanxious to assault the ground with vicious raindrenching everything, drowning the ghost crabsfleeing sandpipers, gulls, terns, and Paula —fallen asleep an… Continue reading
The Lost Brother, excerpt 3–Adrienne Pine
As the weeks and months passed, I felt like the one Mom and Dad “erased” from the family. The few conversations we had ended in pitched arguments…
Time Storm—Laura Sheahen
Leaves whirl on the sidewalk
Vortex of autumn
Fruit shrinks back to blossom
Quivering spring…
Sally & Chip–William Ivor Fowkes
SALLY MILLER sits at a table working. CHIP MILLER enters, returning from a run.
SALLY: You said you were just going for a quick run!
CHIP: (distracted) Oh, hey, Sally.
SALLY: You’ve been gone for hours! Where were you?…
Malformation—J.J. Steinfeld
From a storm I asked forgiveness
then from a malformed lightning bolt
looking legendary as a lie
from the lips of a lover of truths…
Solanum Tuberosum–Salvatore Difalco
I refrigerated a bag of new potatoes. But potatoes last longer in warmer temperatures. I did not know this. After a week, the potatoes turned into a fetid poss…
After the Storm—Denise Bossarte
***Denise Bossarte is an award-winning writer, photographer, and artist based in Texas, USA. When she’s not immersed in writing, she turns her lens to the world around her, exploring visual spaces with a… Continue reading
The Winds—John Grey
The wind roars and howls and
even inside the house, its wildness
finds me. What protection do I have?
Thunder-Callers–Megan E. Tripaldi
Two orphaned sisters try to ride out a tornado in their basement, and are forced to confront both their own relationship and their individual relationships to their grief all while the ghost of the teenage version of their mother haunts them…
The Microburst—Penny Nolte
I wake to the sound of screens blowing in against the ceiling with curtains flapping out the
windows…