Poetry
Winter 2011
The Lesson
Say you finally make it home after a particularly arduous day in eighth grade to find the front door standing open and the furniture gone, and wander awhile through the […]
Poetry
Winter 2011
The Window
I know, it's all terribly mystical. So what. So is work; and work means something. It means that what you do, you do for someone else. You do it for […]
Poetry
Winter 2011
The Yes
Each day, for years, it gets up at first light, lets the dove out and stands in the doorway looking at the soft blue Arkansas sky without waking. But never […]
Poetry
Winter 2011
The Child
The child will forgive, will reach out, and wait for the next blow to fall; short of becoming a murderer, what else is he supposed to do— move out and […]
Poetry
Winter 2011
Song
Wysteria rain, where is your child-mother? This must be the last bee on earth. So, you find no more grandeur or mystery here—perhaps you neglected to bring any. Heckling sparrows, […]