The Bucket By Keith Wilcox I have an empty bucket. My mom told me to help clean the kitchen floor. I’m supposed to take this bucket and fill it with water and soap. I’m walking outside towards the spigot, and I’m thinking that water is not what I’d like to fill [...]
The Fight By Keith Wilcox It was recess at Edgewood Middle School and most of the boys were either playing basketball, waiting to play basketball, or sitting on the grass watching basketball. September was the month that basketball was popular. In August it was soccer. Max was one of the boys playing the [...]
This is the conclusion of Memorial (parts 1, 2, and 3)… “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadethe me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his names sake. Yea, though [...]
Memorial By Keith Wilcox The music resonated peacefully between us. It was slow and finger-picked and contemporary. The words were Spanish and the man was singing about a love he was, at one point, afraid he would scare away. A native speaker would probably not find it mysterious. It was the [...]
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