
Category: Uncategorized
Two Poems by V. E. Taylor


A Need for Self-Reflection / Jim Tilley
The Ring / Isabelle Audiger


Isabelle Audiger is a 62 year-old, published or self-published poetry and fiction writer, born in Normandy, France. In a previous life, she taught French and English in Canada, the UK, as well as France. Since 2011, she’s been writing, consistently and stubbornly, poetry, youth or adult novels together with short-stories, in French or in English.
https://linktr.ee/isabelleaudiger
Lunar Field / Lauren Kelley
Lunar Field
by
Lauren Kelley
‘Not all pull is personal.’
You learn to apologize before the water reaches the steps.
It’s a small skill at first: a tightening in the chest when someone else’s voice sharpens, a preemptive softness in your tone. You say I’m sorry, the way other people check the weather—automatic, preventative. You watch for changes in barometric pressure inside the house. You can feel it in the hinge of a door, in the way a cabinet closes too hard, in the pause before someone exhales.
Read More…(PDF)
Lauren Kelley is a writer of flash fiction and creative nonfiction. Her work explores inheritance, place, and the quiet systems people learn to survive inside. She lives in Minnesota, where she writes and tends a small, unruly collection of animals. More of her work can be found at unreliableonpurpose.com.
Corvids / Audrey Hackett

Spring Issue of 3rd Wednesday
Notes from a Teacher’s Meeting in Winter / Blake Kilgore
Between Light / Jennifer Burd
A winning poem in 3rd Wednesday’s annual poetry contest:
This relatively brief poem is ostensibly about a garden, but one that wastes no time finding its way, quietly and unexpectedly, into a very dark domain. Borrowing from the vivid vocabulary of more predictable poems about gardens, the speaker describes instead an environment in slow decay, while providing a warning that we, the observers, are blithely “deadheading in the clarified air.” I consider it a jarring but undeniably memorable poem, infused with the grim inevitability of mortality. – Marilyn L. Taylor, Contest judge.

Pounds / Kimmy Chang
Pounds
by
Kimmy Chang
I was 135. Then 125. Then 99. My big sister graduated and left for college. Ma said it from the sink—hands wet, eyes down: You’ll join her in two years.
Ma dressed me in my sister’s old clothes. Sleeves that swallowed my wrists. Cuffs worn soft where her fingers had worried them. I made Ma pack my sister’s usual lunch for me. At school, I dismantled it. Bread, cheese, ham, bread. The ham came off in a damp sheet. The cheese left a pale sweat on my fingertips. Her homemade cupcake—whipped peaks, chocolate curls—something I couldn’t separate without ruining.
A thick binder waited on my desk, rings yawning. The papers inside had my sister’s cursive in the margins. I pressed my pencil until the lead snapped. I reached for the eraser again.
Read More

Kimmy Chang is a Texas-based writer and computer-vision engineer. A 2026 Writers’ League of Texas Fellow and Pushcart Prize nominee, her work has appeared or is forthcoming in trampset, ONE ART, and Sky Island Journal, among others. Read more at https://www.kchang.xyz/.


