The submissions deadline is Friday, February 17, 2023.
Waves smash against the pillars
Cool rainwater batters against the dock
The tip tap of the rain against my coat
Like the ticking of a clock
The sharp air of the day fills lungs
With each exhale, my breath freezes
In the frigid air
The weathered dock is like an elder who re-
-fuses to let death take them
Creaking wood like brittle bones
The moss green raincoat does little to warm me
Each raindrop falls into the lake and disappears
Like a small child in a crowd of people
White clouds coat the sky like a cotton ball blanket
I look with glazed eyes into the sky
Hypnotized as my mind shuts down
The sunshine peeks through —
A beacon of what’s to come
And what has passed
Adrian J. Smith
My dream future would have me as an engineer mechanical, chemical, etc., living in the suburbs of a city, with a beautiful forest a short drive away.
I know it sounds cliche, but my mom.