The Growing Poem: A Day of Life
a day unfolding in its own shapeless way. by noon the world will hum into shades of flame all will…
a day unfolding in its own shapeless way. by noon the world will hum into shades of flame all will…
Windows are a staple of The Medium office. There’s some meaning to be derived from them about transparency and the search for…
“Don’t worry if you can’t recognize them,” my dad says to my sisters and me as we push our luggage…
It takes me a while to acclimate to Russia’s white nights. As light peers through the windows and drapes across…
The names in this piece have been changed to protect individual privacy. “Do you want to prove them right?” When…
It’s 9:22 a.m. A frail adolescent boy sits crossed-legged on his bed. His polo shirt, once soft and bright red,…
On a cool October morning, I repeat today’s plan to my mom as we drive to pick up Tuco. “The…
Growth is a part of the human condition. We must grow to survive in an ever-changing world where new technological…
“Going abroad to France really changed me,” she says. Who is she? I don’t know, because she’s different now. I…
When we imagine a career in art, we might picture someone holding a paintbrush and preparing a wooden easel and…