Unempathetic Euthanasia

Green leaf plant on brown wooden stump

for P.W.

The sign asked us to not disturb the fallen
ash tree but to let it naturally die
in peace, to which I wondered

why it was then moved off the path
from where it first fell
without a sound and away

from the other trees, its fellow creatures
who are capable of empathetically secreting
their life-giving energies amongst themselves
to keep each other alive.

Poem by Carl Colvin

Carl Colvin is a freelance musician, teacher, writer, and editor originally from Chicago, Illinois and is now residing in the Cincinnati, Ohio area.

Carl served on the editorial staff of the Valparaiso Fiction Review for four years as an assistant editor, copy editor, and submissions manager at different intervals. Since then, he has freelanced by editing poetry and fiction for smaller literary magazines (which included starting and teaching in a workshop series at Moody Bible Church) and novels for individual authors.

Carl’s poetry can be found in Tuck Magazine, Tiny Seed Literary Journal, and Z Publishing’s Best Emerging Poets series. He also was published for his fiction in the Valparaiso Fiction Review.

As a teacher and editor, Carl’s mission is to provide new and emerging musicians and writers the opportunity to share and express their work while also developing the best versions of themselves as artists.

Carl holds a Bachelor of Arts with majors in creative writing, music, and humanities from Valparaiso University. He also holds both a Master of Music in Oboe Performance and a Performance Certificate from DePaul University. At Valparaiso University he was awarded the Anna Zink Springsteen award for his many contributions to the University’s literary culture.