Current Issue Volume 2, Issue 2
VOLUME 2, ISSUE 2

THE ASH VOLUME 2 / ISSUE 2

JOY MARIE

LONELY COMPANION   Worn straps hanging, waiting in the dark, for frail legs, crawling up into the cold seat, while shivering hands grasp the rain spattered wheels.   Joy Marie has written poetry since she was eleven years old. She writes "I am now a grandmother. My writing has changed... but it remains a vital part of who I am. I am blessed to be able to share it with others."

PATRICIA GROSS

MEMORIES   It was a warm summer afternoon, and the sun was slowly sinking behind the enormous old pine trees across the street. On the front porch of a small white ranch style house sat an older woman enjoying the warmth of the dying day. She was slowly rocking on a creaky wicker chair with a blanket gently draped over her legs.  She was gazing off into the distant mountains lost in her own thoughts. Today the mountains looked the same as they did on the day she first moved to this small sleepy town. There were no leaves on Read More »

LISE DUNHAM

SPIRITS, SOULS, AND AURAS   Spirits, Souls, and Auras are around us all of the time, with freedom of time, substance, light, and dark of the world.  We choose to see, sense, feel, hear, and acknowledge these entities or we do not.  I have learned that it is easier by far to acknowledge them.  The Spirits, Souls, and Auras come from the entire spectrum of light and dark.  When you see only darkness to the areas of life and death that you do not understand, it is like looking at the Death Card in a Tarot Deck.  The Death Card Read More »

PATRICIA GROSS

A FLOOD OF CHANGE   Gazing through the rain-speckled window on that gloomy June day, I wondered when the incessant rain would let up. I thought longingly about the kids and I being able to play with the new swing set and trampoline that we had purchased just a few days prior. They sat out in the front yard alone and unused dripping raindrops slowly and methodically from the perfectly painted hollow tubes that held them together. I could almost hear the ting, ting, ting sounds that the raindrops were making. I had always wanted a trampoline growing up, but Read More »

SUSAN CANE

IMAGINING CONCRETE   Walking up a wall today, It moves from east to west, Now it moves so I must crawl, It’s bringing me no peace.   Now it’s moving very far, I hardly hold grip, If I hold on any longer, My back and legs will rip.   The rock is cold and wet, It’s not easy holding on, If I close my eyes to tight, The decision will be gone.   If I stopped I could relax, And find that I could sleep, But my will is to stay on, The fighting I must keep.   See moving Read More »