by Dawn Pisturino Delaware Territory, Colonial America, 1755 Nunganey trudged through the crusty snow searching for signs of beaver and other game. He longed for a blazing fire and his mother’s warm smile. But the villagers were counting on the hunters—the best of the tribe—to bring back fresh meat. … Leer más Trapped in the Snow
by Dawn Pisturino Lying there in sweet repose, Lips as red as any rose, The Sleeping Beauty rests her head Upon a gold and velvet bed; Golden tresses fair displayed Around the shoulders softly laid, Be-decked in sequined, jeweled dress, Her slender hands across her breast. Fair Maid! — What evil cast you here To… Leer más The Sleeping Beauty
by Dawn Pisturino This land is in my blood And my blood is in this land. I will pick up arms and fight for it. I will fight for what is mine. My blood, sweat, and tears Fertilized this soil. The crops grow strong and rich With life-giving nectar. They nourish my family And sustain… Leer más This Land is in My Blood
by Dawn Pisturino “I should’ve stayed at the university,” Rafe grumbled, gripping the steering-wheel until his hands hurt. “The family could’ve celebrated Christmas without me. I should’ve taken the main highway instead of this shortcut. God knows where I’m at! Who knows what time I’ll get there?” A thick forest of snow-capped… Leer más The Lonely Highway
by Dawn Pisturino When November came, We sat around the kitchen table after dark, Telling chilling tales Of ghosts and other phantoms of the night, While wooden logs crackled and burned On the old stone hearth, And a cold wind wrapped its spectral arms Around the ancient wooden cottage. We warmed ourselves with hot mulled… Leer más November
by Dawn Pisturino He fell in love Watching her do ordinary things: The wave of her hand, while saying farewell, Cut him to the core, making him want to stay; Rolling pie crust on a floured board, Back and forth, back and forth, Until the rhythm lulled him into dreamless sleep; Kneading the dough for… Leer más Ordinary Things
by Dawn Pisturino On Halloween night, cats yowled, dogs howled, and in the nether regions of an old basement, a large snake lay sleeping in the dark. She was a lovely snake with hooded yellow eyes, fat gleaming coils, and a yellow diamond pattern running down her pale back. She had… Leer más The Snake
by Dawn Pisturino “Coffee, please – a large macchiato with a double shot of espresso.” The owner of the coffee bar shuddered and made a face. “I detest the stuff, myself, but . . . shhh,” she said, holding her finger to her lips, “don’t tell anybody. After all, I make my… Leer más Coffee
by Manuela Timofte I wish I could fly like you, Sing a song or maybe two, Flutter softly my good-bye, And fly, birdie, fly! Birdie, Birdie M.- Why do you write? The idea of writing and being a writer has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. I was greatly… Leer más Dawn Pisturino – Interview
by Dawn Pisturino The body was found not long after the mariachi band had left the hotel. A young housekeeper dressed in a grey uniform had been stuffed into a broom closet, a piece of thick rope twisted tightly around her neck. The housekeeper who found her later described the purple face, protruding tongue,… Leer más It Takes a Village
Gobblers & Masticadores 