poetry
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Ten years had passed since the skies over Zaragoza, Spain, turned to blood. The pyramids—Giza, Chichen Itza, Teotihuacan—had roared to life, their ancient stones humming as beams of light lanced upward, stitching the heavens with red stars. The lattice of crimson threads wove a canopy that smothered the blue sky, and the rivers, from the Read more
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O tranquil mirrors of a crafted dream,Ye lakes of Craigavon, born of mortal hand,In nineteen-seventy’s dawn, a gleamOf vision carved thee from the sodden land.No ancient springs thy waters did beget,But engineers, with steel and sweat, did strive,To tame the floods that fields would oft beset,And grant a flood-born peace where towns might thrive.Thou hold’st Read more
Dany Slone 