Dan Leach

Fist Fight with Older Sibling

blood back then
tasted like pennies

it was only red
in your mouth

once dried
on your shirt

it looked brown
as any mud

closer in color
to your brother’s hair

you are remembered

as the one
who always lost

hate it but
remember anyway

how closely love
walked with cruelty

how when they said
stay down

they meant
the opposite


The two girls smoking grapevine

at the bottom

of a dried-up creek

will forever be laughing

in the memory of a boy

who was walking

through the woods

and heard voices

just in time to turn

and see the plumes

from the earth

rising like a song

written in a tongue

long since dead

Dan Leach                         

Dan Leach has published work in The New Orleans Review, Copper Nickel, and The Sun. He has two collections of short fiction: “Floods and Fires” (University of North Georgia, 2017) and “Dead Mediums” (Trident Press, 2022). An instructor of English at Charleston Southern University, he lives in the lowcountry of South Carolina with his partner and kids.