by Adeline Macdonald Clean steam iron the linen sheets, white and crisp and beautiful and without fault or fold White walls upon white walls with nothing to upset you or hurt you or make you cry or want to leave or want to think Do you love it? Is it…
by Amy Southard I know when Autumn arrives, Usually early September here. The corn in my garden is ready for harvest, The silks turning brown. The pumpkins are beginning To turn more orange than green. Leaves are turning yellow, orange and red, Falling to the ground and crunching, As playful…
by Bethany Veith We fought against the cold sweat dripping in August as we split hardwood and stacked it just so upon wispy grass and purple asters. The summers vanished like a dream. Wood smoke settled into the valley stippled with red and orange maples silhouetted against the frosted White…
by Abigail Warren After making pie crusts, and sabayon for the strawberries, I washed, dressed, and walked up to the top deck. You were falling overboard, with a shawl on your head. I waved from the deck, hands ice cold; what else could I do? But go down with the…
by Matt Stefon for Minori and for I-495, which always gets us home If you lay your heart bare earlier than the trees in mid-October, you should prepare for cold. They’re still wearing orange, red, and yellow school sweatshirts over their trunks for some time after graduation, and will do…
By Diane Walters I’m a slob! Right now the dishes are piled up in every square inch of my ten-foot kitchen. They are on the stove, in the stove, on the counter, in both sinks and in the dish drain rack; they are stacked two and a half-feet high on…
By RJ Traub We watched you dancing in the gales that ushered in the cold, frenetically, yet gracefully, you leaves of green and gold, the sunlight on you crimson leaves breathtaking to behold as jauntily you danced all day to celebrate the cold. Your young trees, barely trembling now, look…