Monster-Muskie

Stone Soup Magazine
May 2019

By Ben Stieren

In the cold, dark waters of the lake in Wisconsin, His yellow eyes swivel about His ns never stop waving I can barely hear the swish of his tail— Just...

I roll onto my side, the grass damp and prickly on my bare legs. A speckled monarch flits across a big-leaf hydrangea sky. The breeze tousles the rose bushes,...

In this real world I can feel the long grass Brush my knees And hear the soft whisper Of the breeze calling Go home, go home As the daylight turns to night. In...

You know the sound— the clang as the ball bounces off the rust-colored hoop. The backboard, faded with use, trembles. You feel it vibrate. On the rebound, you...

My sister and I Scramble up the jagged rocks Our pockets full of shells, rocks And the occasional sea glass. My mother sits by the fire, Reading peacefully We...

There are special moments where you connect with another living being. When no words are spoken you can understand each other. Some moments you can physically...

Night knits the mountains close and hazy lines shoot high. A half moon rising low and dim quietly moans a tune; the wind is at a howl; the trees are a wobbling...

I spread my sides, flattening like Play-Doh, And close my eyes as light spreads its fingers over my back. My blood heats and spills warmth into my tail and...

Hazy gray-gold light Patterns on the wall. Mystical. Creaking door, A frisky tail, and she pounces Ever so light. She prances, Arches her back, kneads deep...

We stand in the old kitchen On the white rustic floors With cloth draped over the table My tiny hands are ready She gets the flour As I stretch to get eggs At...