I have spent the last few weeks struggling to put my thoughts and emotions into words. As a writer, I want to use my words to stand with my Black brothers and sisters as we fight against the systemic racism we face daily. But to be honest, I’m at a loss as to where to...
Nana, my mother’s mother, was the maven of molasses creams, maple syrup, piggy-back rides, pickled beets, knits and purls, boiled jelly, tomatoes, and trilliums. In other words, she tilled the land, fed the family, created textiles, designed garden beds, and...
It was snowing when Bess woke and turned off the alarm. She could see large flakes falling in the dim early light. She slipped from the covers and, shivering, pulled on a robe, collected her clothes and opened the bedroom door. It squawked just as it had a few hours...
The plane ascends. Women disrobe, crossing into Turkey’s airspace. Their hair cascades like waterfalls. I lift my skirt to let my legs breathe. So much sin is compressed between my teeth & my toes! I stride over the pavement. The wind runs through...
By Holly Day I feel the wings flutter under my skin as I tell them about my childhood, about how things were before I had children of my own. I hint at the type of insect I was make it more beautiful—I was a butterfly, a damselfly a fluorescent leaf-hopper, something...
By Marti Rhode All I want now is a pair of turquoise cowgirl boots. You know what kind, the ones with doily stitching around the top, and pointed, cowgirl toes. I want one of those twirling skirts with white rick-rack trim, and fringe, somewhere. ...
