Prose, Poetry, and Art since 1956
Against an unsettled skyline puncturedby flit & bird-shadow, song & plummet, someone else’s history unfurls beforethe ghost of my grandfather can wrap his huge dead hands over my son’s not-yet-dead eyes. Is this what it means to witness? To confess? To forgive? Today, we’re strugglingless with conjugating the white half of his blood. Sing. Song. Sung. Sorry. The sun once lit & nownothing seems to…
July, blue chlorine bulbglittering pool light ripplingand blurred body billow held in black bead of nightdusky spruce and cedar outlinebackyard under hazed moon little stars, backyard spotlighttonguing a path of grassbeside the cellar doors. Wishing to be older & say that we had,our little bathing suit bottoms slip downthe highway of twiggy legs, we submergeto our necks in hot water, flirts of summerwater splashing our…
The Dog days of Summer are here. What does that mean? For those of us in the Northern Hemisphere it means Sirius, the brightest star in our night sky, begins its rise over the eastern horizon. It means we enter the hottest part of the summer. It’s a time associated with drought, fires, fevers, thunderstorms, bad luck, and way too much heat. We propose the…
It is fair to say that author Suzanne Roberts is in love with adventure. She skis no-fall zones, she mountain bikes over rough terrain (sometimes breaking bones in the process), she hikes challenging trails, she travels everywhere she can—and then she writes about these adventures in her books and essays. Roberts has the confidence that a woman and writer with her skills and talents needs,…
In August, auditions for the Fall Pageant begin. Della sings beautifully, as everyone knew she would, but Amelia, Thomas, and Sarah are given the parts of the sweet fox family. A gaggle of boys are handed a set of pitchforks dulled at their points for their roles as farmers. Other Sarah is given the role of Rabbit, and Georgia, the Hare. A few girls are…