Andrew Cyr

I paid for change—good cash goneto get my wife,Jolene sober. Her depression,her drinking,brought me to my knees.I turned pages in a dusty Bible.God, fix, Jolene,I prayed. Jolene left, returned,left again—friends always ready to party. “If you leave,stay gone,” I said. She stayed gone.I waited—night heavy as grief,both sky and heart broken. It backfired—a prophecy … [Read more...] about After the Storm, Us, By: Andrew Cyr

Talia cast stones at friendsthen hid her hands.I sat in the recliner,watching a college football gameon the large TV above the fireplace.It was Saturday, just after noon,and Talia would soon start talkingabout some lady at work.I glanced occasionally and noddedto seem interested.I remembered her co-worker’s name,just in case Talia asked.I hated the cheap shots she tookat … [Read more...] about Speaking To Listen, By: Andrew Cyr

I calledYou didn’t answerDad’s deadHe didn’t sufferYou’d knowBetter than usThe funeralYou weren’t thereThe memoriesSpoiled my soulSome catchYou sold outFetch soilBouts to comeTender melodiesLove casts stonesI’m guiltyI was hereBut goneThe times changedDad didn’tHe sipped vodkaI diedHe wanted betterPure loveWhen Mom diedYears agoHe died insideI satBut didn’t listenHis eyesWell … [Read more...] about Guilt and Forgiveness: Healing After Loss, By: Andrew Cyr

It was the summer of ‘89when Leo and Jackie hiredworkers to replace the tan carpetwith a mahogany floor.It was a scorched earthfor three months.Leo’s fair skin burned.Jackie would slap him on the back.He shrugged off the stingshe’d laugh, making him chuckle. The newlyweds elected to leasean apartment in the meantime.There was a balcony overlookingthe Naches.Jackie caught a … [Read more...] about Lessons Learned in 1989: Empowering Women Today, By: Andrew Cyr

Mateo was on edge.The evergreen trees shielded warm rays.A creek flowed over a small waterfall.A brisk breeze moved through his hair like static.Mateo’s legs hung over the ledge.He kicked his feet and batted, asking Scarlett to marry him again.The tip of Mount Adams had a dusting of snow.A red-breasted nuthatch made a fast series of nasal,hornlike notes that echoed … [Read more...] about Love at the Ledge, By: Andrew Cyr