"O, Cynthia", Cyn Grace Sylvie's poem, is a sojourn through family, bloodlines, history, and myth, with the poet's own name as the catalyst.
In the hushed lines of Christopher James' Cider, memories, and dreams, we are brought along with the narrator as he wanders an overgrown family orchard, remembers the past, and ponders the future.
BY SARAH CHAVERA EDWARDS I never knew him in life. The man with calloused hands and almond eyes that would turn into half-moons when he laughed.
BY KENT JACOBSON My father clomped through life with boots—“Your mother will turn you into a softy”— and died early.
BY APRIL NANCE I have a photograph of my childhood self taken by my Aunt Sandy. In the picture she has tamed my scraggly hair and combed it into a neat blonde bob.
Chris Alaimo's Lovely Kid is an expression of grief for the freedom and innocence through which we explore ourselves in exploring the world in childhood.