I am so honored and excited that I got to be part of the River and South Review team this year. When I first approached…
A symphony of freshness.There you are,betweenPippins, Cortlands, Boscs-The usual, dull, fall fare,assembled like a majestic choir,unapologetically singing: “We’re still here.” Cheeky,Yellowy red,Fuzzy,Vine ripened—The last tune of summer I…
Ann sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the packed suitcase on the floor next to her. The late afternoon light in the…
What do women who don’t take their coats offdo in the summer when it’s warm?Does Freon flow through their veins?Do they sweat through ice-lined pores? I…
The bird hides inside, tucked inside my ribcage,the feathers hide my heart. You can smell its desperation on me;even through the cigarette smoke and birthday…
A swirling, whirling dervish the sky cannot contain me going every which way Wild-eyed as Van Gogh, no salve for the wounds blue on blue burnt red on beige Calm…
In the wildlife rescue video shared ten million times:the fawn paces at the bottom of a dry well,the ducklings peep in a sewer,the fox hangs…
The best way to stave off death is to make it something you want because then you’ll never get it. That is what I’ve learned. My…
Life like a crisp packetdropped into a fire,shrinking and crumbling; dyingand not burning; curlingon hot coals. I sip tea in the morning on the kitchen floorand…
Rain pours down, downpour,pouring rain, rainpour, downrain, and I, inside, beneath a dormered ceiling,cloistered from the hammering pellets, percussive symphony of spatterssinging how sheltered you are. A slope…
Everyone in the village knew about the Man on the Motorbike. A few had even seen him, lurking around the lanes near Saltby Airfield or…
Blood and flesh and bone,bequeathed to me, I raised you to cleave to other geographies,to leave me sliced open by the distancethat looms between us,…
Every few months, I take a picture of myselfand make it easy to findso they won’t have to look longwhen I die.The struggle against the…
Only a few minutes ago, we were talking through the closet walllike prisoners at a poet conventionor lovers caught in the parking lothaving one last dance…
The cloud gnaws atthe spine of the mountain,cracking the bone to get at the marrow,licking the earth’s juicesdribbling down the chin, soaking shoulders,undercutting the highway,…
Dear Readers, Welcome to the Summer of 2019 issue of River & South Review! Being part of a literary magazine is an interesting experience for…
The build, this build a painful narcoleptic my dissonance evokes the somber chi that lives in all of us. Remnant memories of my by gone.…
When I was three and when my father’s hair was still black, an errant baseball thwacked the rear window of our car. At the time,…
Frame by frame, this game:fast forward, reverse; zoom in, retreatto the panoramic, commentary astute, shrewd,witty, and—my husband points out—spot onwith what I noted (the week…
Easy sigh me Kiss the very blears of my corners Calm my rustlings Hush my eyes Dawn my furrowed nocturnings Easy sigh me Whisper near the crest of my shadows Pause…
Benny kept babbling, kept saying, “Man, I’m breaking apart. Man, I’m breaking apart.” And I wanted to tell him to fucking chill. To just let…
This final forest thins out ahead.I can see through the trees nowas the stand diffusesstretching their shadowsleaving only space – a barrenwithout blueberries perhaps. Moss…
does not want attention when she goes into town to shop. She’s hadenough of people’s taunts, their opinions of her looks, her clothes,her lifestyle. Her…
The trail maker — I want to meet her. She swings me ‘round the boles of the bigger beeches, then along a slope with skinny…
One morning, I woke up in Jaisalmer, India with one thought on my mind: I must get my nose pierced. I do not recall making…
Theirs was a marriage of skin conditions, heartbreak and rashes, wrapped in a perilous geography: concrete for her, and his pocked valleys. My mother preferred…
My mother was raised by alcoholics in Arkansas, then fled to an aunt’s house in Gary, Indiana, when she was old enough, or as she…
He spilled things: tiny gold necklaces into shag carpet, wine coolers over a plate of snickerdoodles, letters out the edges of the high school yearbook.…
descending down the lonely dark hill snow pouring down from the darkness down in cones cast from the yellow street lights driving carefully down route…
How quickly it transits, an arc of ice tightening from west to east. A rock thrown into black water shivers into the deep, empty belly,…
outside her window, spiderweb branches crawlacross a darkening sky — the cold, wet, whitemakes faces in the glass — the light bulbsemit their white light…
There is a feather: the outer vein is edged dark, like charcoal ash, while the longer side bears an oyster-shell lightness. Gathered from the yard,…
This year, she rememberseveryone—daughter, daughter-in-law,son-in-law, grandchildren—but early,March Hallmarks arriving beforeSeptember’s almost-autumn,age a wish we’d rather wait onbut still welcome with open mail slotswhen her stamped…
Today, the dentist pulledthe last of yournatural teeth andreplaced them withfalse ones. Tomorrow, you will turn eighty-three. I wonder howmuch of usis left — really still…
“So, how was your day?” she asked. “Fine,” he answered, just as he had done twice since coming home from the grocers. He had already put…
In three seconds, she/I will no longer remember the inconsistency of this moment, or the mundane thrill on your/our breath. An umbrella, which she/I/we thought…