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Stories Poems Essays

Fledgling

Sprung early from school in mid-May, Rose Wilson started her ‘wild rose summer,’ by boarding a VIA Rail train in Kingston, Ontario. This was the summer she turned 12, so this four-month adventure to Alberta included her parents and her three younger siblings.

Letter to my Ex-husband’s Lawyer

At our Case Conference yesterday, you represented my ex-husband, but for a fleeting moment, I heard you advocate for me while attempting to acknowledge an injustice that caused you discomfort.

First Snow, Snowflakes

First Snow

Albert, our black lab, is scratching his large head, but the Yorkie, Biff, has not begun to stir. I stretch my hand along the sheets to touch George’s shoulder; his absence startles me. It has been six months. But for a moment, I had forgotten that he’s gone.

2025 Haiku Contest – The Winners!

Congratulations to the winners of the 2025 Dreamers Haiku Contest! Thanks to our judges, Dr. Reinekke Lengelle and Dr. Bob Fecho. Read the winning haiku…

At the Airport Bubble

The bathroom medicine cabinet—It has been three weeks. This will be the easiest I think. It isn’t. I can’t stop the mist in my eyes as I toss everyday medicines left over from normal ailments, the healthy days, the pre-cancer days.

the promise, malice, lazarus returns

the last surviving member
of Heaven’s Gate
reflects on failure
I thought you were
coming back
had wrapped up
everything
was ready
to be taken away

pre/mo/cognition, optimism is a mutated mule

there’s something happening that I can’t quite
catch. something hiding, birthing,
like the egg of a maggot, itching
to hatch, quite slight—
barely there—