Editor’s Choice: I remember squeezing my way into a packed elevator on a cloudy Monday morning in February, when someone spilled coffee on me. The lady was …..
The consolation and encouragement, although heart-warming, made Rami’s loss even more unbearable. She had been striving to be recognized
This poem is about childhood nostalgia. I was inspired to write this after visiting my husband’s home town-Riverside, in California.
She walked up to the stairs, paused for a while to gaze into the long narrow corridor buzzing with new bees. Each face was so unique. Their eyes were brimming with hopes for the unknown.