July 2014

A Moon Story by Sarah Cedeno


There is an earthquake in Japan, and I hold my hands on my belly that seizes with the rumble of patting feet. The news warns of tsunami waves as close as California or Hawaii and as far as Japan.

Thunderstorm by Campbell Hoffman

thunderstorm over meadow dark clouds single streak of lightening

“Mama, I do not like thunderstorms,” she declared with a whisper. And with wide worried eyes she told me how today, at camp, some kids told her that she could die if she looked at lightning.

Tornado by Feagin Jones

tornado funnel over sunset

We lived in the black-veined mountains, because my father was a coal-mining engineer. Where my father and I saw comfort, my mother saw dilapidated houses, smeared on the sides of hills.

Water by Janee J. Baugher

satelite image of hurricane katrina

An elderly woman trapped in a nursing home called and said, “Are you coming, son? Is somebody coming?” “Yeah, Mama, somebody’s coming to get you on Tuesday.”