The Maslow Family Graduate Program in Creative Writing at Wilkes University is rooted in community, and the close collaboration and grassroots efforts put forth to…
They will have unstitched the flowers from your collar, edited my name toward a sad misspelling. We won’t recognize each other nor the rooms in…
The gate was crowded when she arrived, the obligatory one hour prior to departure. Or was it one hour prior to boarding? She wasn’t sure.…
Some, in their hula hoop circus gear and spandex pirate stripes, bump to late-night techno spinning at Rouge Cat’s Euro trash lounge or grind to…
Our mothers proclaimed that nothing good ever happens after midnight, as if having us in bed by the time the two clock hands clasped at…
A woman I once worked with came to visit when I moved back east and stole my car after my husband and I went to bed.…
I’m cleaning out my cupboards and polishing my vocal chords. I’ve taken the carpets out from under my feet, shaking them free of stray stones…
There’s enough moss to go around is what I say to myself. When I lived on the East coast moss said only North, but here…
I tell two fictions about the tree tattooed on my left shoulder. The first story is that it is a tribute to my father, “roots…
The half-dead baby crow rescued and released came back to me in a dream. He was six feet tall, sleek feathered, shining blue. He wanted…
When you were pulled from the surgical slit in my stomach, each of my sixteen years cried out. Cradled by my arms and the eyes…
It’s a renegade blessing, a luckless charm, an impossible command, a petition with one signature, a spangled net of wishes thrown over the precious other,…
I know it’s true because it happened to me as I stood alone in the mourning moonlight, after they planted my love in the ground…
Step One: Close your eyes. When it climbs on your face like a spider monkey / and tries to pry your eyelids open remember this…
I never believe what anyone tells me, unless it’s the truth. And I know when it’s the truth because I feel it, like I feel…
It is not disappearing, so much as being lifted up and whisked away. The wind carries the ground off, particle by particle, mote by mote.…
I’ve had the news on since 9. The television screen has been yapping, of course, nonstop screeching about the horrible news. One more murder, another…
I’m here to pick up Dad. He is on a shelf behind the funeral director’s desk, surrounded by awards the funeral home has won. Brass…
In Memoriam: Josiah, Sarah, Herman, Katherine, Boyd & Paul Moore, and Lena and Ina May Stillinger, killed June 10, 1912 in Villisca, Iowa. They don’t go…
Tonight, in the loamy darkness, we grow into shapes resembling ourselves. The forest breathes through us — heady infusions of oxygen. Our combined age is…