by Sandra Anfang

Seamus grabbed his sweatshirt and headed for the barn on Chileno Valley Road. It was his birthday, a day he shared with the Perseid Meteor Shower. Climbing into the bed of the Mazda, arms wrapped tight around his chest, he tried different angles to find the best one, neck muscles already gnawing at him. Why had he broken things off with Meredith just before his fiftieth? A brilliant meteor sliced the sky, killing this line of thought. Dead stars punch holes in the sky, he said out loud to no one, just as his empty stomach growled loudly.


Sandra Anfang is a poet, teacher, and editor. Her poems have appeared in Rattle, The New Verse News, The MacGuffin, Spillway, and numerous other journals. Her books include Looking Glass Heart (Finishing Line Press 2016), Road Worrier: Poems of the Inner and Outer Landscape (FLP 2018), and Xylem Highway (Main Street Rag, 2019). She hosts Rivertown Poets and teaches poetry to children. When she’s not writing, she hides out in the hills of Sonoma County, California. More here.