Hana leans into the second verse, singing about the loneliness of a songless bird. The music in my life is missing.
Dreamers Creative Writing is dedicated to writing that is from the heart.
Our names were announced over the booming horde hailing the local girl making history. The bell tolled.
I feel safe and warm, and I drift to sleep with the smell of apples, sugar, and butter gently filling my nose.
I am drawn to the train tracks and find the memory haunting. Because that’s how you died, my little brother.
I lay down on the couch ushered by my anguish. The clock ticks, backwards. I’m four again.
I ache to whisper the fullness of my heart, but can’t decode it swift enough to speak. It’s a foreign language.
The late November grey hung in curtains all around them. And of course, greyest of all, on Leonard’s mood.
Sarah Louise Butler’s new novel contains a mystery, intrinsically connected to nature and reader perception.
My father puts his hands on my shoulders. I haven’t seen him in ten years, but he looks good.
We're pleased to announce the release of Issue 9 of the Dreamers Magazine, including the winners of our Haiku Contest. Get your copy now!
Congratulations to the winners of the 2021 Dreamers Haiku Contest! We just love this haiku contest! Read the winning haiku...
The city of Page sleeps as I slide my leg over my motorcycle. The sun crowns over the horizon and sets the desert aglow.
There they were. A family of two. In a house with strong bones and a living room ready to hold them.
I had no more an idea of what to expect as I would going on a blind-date in a black hole..."
But, here and now, I remember everything! My life seems abstract and surreal, but I am seeing it and hearing your words.
His black dog led him to a noose at the end of a rope. I was fearful she was on a similar path.
In my mind I beg her silently, don’t ask him about memory loss. He remembers the words to the songs that make him happy.
