From the Hill Over the Sea By JD Miller In the cottage at the top of the hill, the dew was still glistening on the lawn. Nobody had been by to call in three days, but the flowers in the crystal vase remained as immaculate as if they’d been clipped only moments ago. At the bottom of the hill, where the sea sprawled beneath the gray sky, a ship was passing by, small and faded red. From the cottage at the top, the woman watches, smiles, waves, as though the men on the ship know just where to point their … Read More
Not More By JD Miller He gave her a hug that knocked the sunglasses off the top of her head. It wasn’t unfriendly in any way. But that was just the problem, wasn’t it? Not unfriendly, but not…more. Sitting on the bus, that’s all she could think about. Not more. Not more could be the slogan for her whole year. Her life motto. She could practically see it on her gravestone. This, and this, yes—but not more. Not unfriendly. And at least she’d gotten a hug. She hadn’t always. He wasn’t always a hugger. He was a smiler, a back-of-crowd … Read More
Crane Over Water By JD Miller Crane, over the water: I see the reflection of you Distorted in the mirror And the fog, The curve of your long body, Bending like the moon To touch the earth– A single petal from A single bloom– Your wings spread out for balance And one foot Raised up, so you can Shave your soapy legs.