
by Becca Hensley That Goddess of Willendorf, stone figure unearthed by sturdy farmer’s hands, speaks to me. And now I burst with children, I am jam packed, crammed, congested with little hands […]
by Becca Hensley That Goddess of Willendorf, stone figure unearthed by sturdy farmer’s hands, speaks to me. And now I burst with children, I am jam packed, crammed, congested with little hands […]
by Terry Godbey She circles, distraught and loud, and like any expectant mother displays an unfortunate waddle. Behind her, a man emerges from the lake, shoes and shins dripping, holding her glistening […]
by Marcia Aldrich Nothing is simple. Nothing is pure. Sorrow folds inside the wings of happiness. And, as Louise Bogan says, “At midnight tears run into your ears.” ••• Late last April, […]
I have long hair—originally brown with some gold bits, depending on the amount of time I spent in the sun, and now that same color due to the contents of boxes […]
by Gianna Russo There is no way she would miss it. Nothing would keep my mother away from the wedding of her first grandchild—not even her death nearly five years earlier. […]
by Ann LaBar “How would you like it if I were dancing with a dead shark?” My five-year-old daughter asks from the back seat. And I remember an old lover who after […]