Contributor: E.S. Wynn

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Highway unspooling before us
rolling on endless
rolling on
like sliding
like snakes
snakes
through trees.

Single lane,
dirt road
warm convection currents
scent of flowers
mud water
up to the door.

Black sand
a ring of stones
a log, half burned
meadow
low grass
sea like a heart
pulsing
washing
slushing
wet wind spinning
threads of silken hair

cold sets in fast.
Cold, wet
laughing
struggling to start a fire
shivering in wet pants
but you're there
hands on my shoulders
rough towel warm
against neck.

Making love in the darkness.
silhouette body
raining moonlight
midnight umbra hair
falling all around me.

Morning sweat
saxophone
stoked coals
the elks watch us
they know.

Returning to the world,
we know it too.


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E.S. Wynn is the author of over fifty books in print. During the last decade, he has worked with hundreds of authors and edited thousands of manuscripts for nearly a dozen different magazines. His stories and articles have been published in dozens of journals, zines and anthologies. He has taught classes in literature, marketing, math, spirituality and guided meditation. Outside of writing, he has worked as a voice-over artist for several different horror and sci-fi podcasts, albums and ebooks.