Contributor: Luna V
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Laughs in the forest,
a tribe living near a river
where trees turning bare
White blankets the scene.
Swift winter brings swifter sunfall.
Dead of night, sparks fly.
Chills run down the spine
blaze consuming the frost, and
the kids that played there.
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Elino Benjamin Villegas feels at home in the big city, though he is trapped in the suburbs of Southern California. When he’s not writing the worst short story ever, he’s hammering out a blues lick on his black Epiphone, experimenting with different recipes in the kitchen, or designing computer graphics and fan art.
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