Gwen Hart Living out West becomes real to me when the horses I thought were painted on the Wells Fargo billboard step out of the frame and gallop past me down the long hill toward town. Gwen Hart lives in Havre, Montana, near the Bear Paw Mountains.
Read MoreDale Wisely
Misky Braendeholm “Too Early”
Misky Braendeholm Too Early First crocus as bright as a struck match, a blinded flame in the frost, and robbed of its thin white dress. Misky Braendeholm lives in the UK surrounded by flowers, grapevines, bubbling sourdough starter, and she never buys clothing without pockets.
Read MoreAli Salzmann “We’ve Lost So Much”
Ali Salzmann We’ve Lost So Much You could smell the dead fish and grit-thick coffee from a mile away, and the old women stared out to sea, hoping for the dead’s safe return, scraping scales, cleaning feathered flesh one filet at a time, telling stories about their father’s friend’s cousin’s lovers, the taste of the […]
Read MoreViolette Taylor “Reading List”
Violette Taylor Reading List I have stopped waiting for divine intervention, so now I search for counsel on highway signs and in the underlined passages of used books. Violette Taylor writes to make her favorite tiny moments big enough for others to see.
Read MoreJason M. Vaughn “Where a round bale stood, just moments ago”
Jason M. Vaughn Where a round bale stood, just moments ago, there is now a patch of curled sightless grass and four mice, the size of a boy’s fingertips (all pink skin and shivering), shivering in the shadow of a boy wondering what he can do as the harsh fast-popping popping of his father’s tractor— […]
Read MoreBetsy Mars “Conversation Hearts”
Betsy Mars Conversation Hearts for my mother She sang to me, my funny valentine — maybe as much as either of us ever knew of love. Betsy Mars writes poetry in the night by the light of her cat’s eyes.
Read MoreMatthew Malmberg “Every morning…”
Matthew Malmberg Every morning I ask time for a dance, hoping one day she will let me lead. Matthew Malmberg spends more time writing than working these days.
Read MoreDeborah Gordon “Twilight”
Deborah Gordon Twilight Bird songs muffle on the lips of the night, almost melancholy, from trees heavy with shadow as the book of the day closes, leaving what must sustain you on the long journey through dreams. Deborah Gordon, a wayfarer, just like you, trying to find her way back home.
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