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Fading Autumn

Ingrid Wilson·March 1, 2022

Fading Autumn written by: Ingrid Wilson @Experimentsinfc I cannot wear this Fading Autumn on my skin reminding...

Poetry English

·1 min read

Fragments

Gopal Lahiri·February 16, 2022

Fragments written by: Gopal Lahiri @gopallahiri I The crescent moon is trapped in a surgical anesthesia whites...

English Poetry

·1 min read

An Artist Weeps

David L O'Nan·November 3, 2021

An Artist Weeps written by: David L O’Nan @davidLONan1 Canvas, canvas Where are her eyes, what did...

Poetry English

·1 min read

Fading Picture on My Wall

Ian Fletcher·October 16, 2021

Fading Picture on My Wall written by: Ian Fletcher Fading picture on my wall Of leaves and...

Poetry English

·1 min read

Smitha Vishwanath is a banker turned writer. She began her writing journey in 2016 through her blog. In 2019, she was nominated for Best of the Net, and 2 of her poems were given special mention in NaPoWriMo, 2021 and 2022. In addition, she was awarded the Reuel International Prize for poetry. In 2019, she co-authored a book of poetry, 'Roads- A journey with Verses.' Smitha's writing is peppered with the lessons learned from the plethora of invaluable experiences that come from having lived in India, UAE and Iran, worked in a multi-cultural environment and travelled widely. She resides in Dhaka, Bangladesh, with her husband and two daughters. When she is not writing, you can find her painting, travelling, or sharing reviews of books. She is excited about her debut novel, 'Coming Home', which will be released on 18th March 2023.

The Lighthouse by Sharon Frame Gay

Maine, 1922
There are those who find the song of a foghorn mournful and foreboding. To me, it was a lullaby. I’ve been a lighthouse keeper all my life. I was born in the keeper’s cottage in 1880, next to the tower that clings to a cliff in Maine. The rhythmic bursts of light and sound that brought home lost sailors lulled me to sleep each night.
Father, and his father before him, maintained the lighthouse for over seventy years. As a child, I peered up the spiral staircase, watching Father high above as he polished the massive searchlight...

Features

Every Day She Walks

…On Poetry and Fiction Just “One Word” Away (“Carousel”)

Still Life

Interviews

Spotlight On Writers – Diana Burns

Spotlight On Writers – Rob Clark

Interview Q&A With Smitha Vishwanath

Walking Home

Nirvana

First Time I Died

Don’t Say Goodbye Summer

Mono No Aware

Consequence

Fading Sunset

Every Time

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Fading Autumn

Fragments

An Artist Weeps

Fading Picture on My Wall

Rope-Snake

Devil Incarnate

The Purple Wall

Nightly Chores

Thread Count

Every Day She Walks

Fainted Falling

How Loud Is My Solitude

Self-Portrait

Walking Home

First Time I Died

Green Resurrection