Post-Post-Traumatic Stress by Samantha Lamph
May13

Post-Post-Traumatic Stress by Samantha Lamph

  “Post-Post-Traumatic Stress” by Samantha Lamph   Trauma is passed down, inherited from past generations like heirloom jewelry or black and white photographs of family we’ll never meet; it is a recessive gene waiting to be expressed. I hear her screaming, that ancient woman. I feel the thrash, the flood of adrenaline that left her soul in ruins yet preserved her body, so we both could survive. In my pulse, she...

Read More
Flight Theory by Alison Adair
May13

Flight Theory by Alison Adair

  “Flight Theory” by Alison Adair Gorlice, 1908     ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here   Allison Adair’s recent poems appear or are forthcoming in American Poetry Review, Best New Poets 2015, Boston Review, Los Angeles Review, Mid-American Review, Mississippi Review, Missouri Review (Poem of the Week), Shenandoah, Southwest Review, and Third Coast, among other...

Read More
The Saint of Memory: The Peas by Linda Ravenswood
May13

The Saint of Memory: The Peas by Linda Ravenswood

  “The Saint of Memory: The Peas” by Linda Ravenswood   She came from the West where rain measures the hours in drops against the house, where land breaks into great crags along the coast of water. Her high, gothic façade of radio hollowly sings through the sitting room where she’s been waiting against the window panes; it’s raining down the garden rows, and the trellis is beating the overhang like a metronome....

Read More
The Button Box by Rebecca Olander
May13

The Button Box by Rebecca Olander

  “The Button Box” by Rebecca Olander   I loved combing through my grandmother’s            box of buttons,                      picking favorites to keep.           I thought it wonderful to say...

Read More
Legacy by Carol Smallwood
May13

Legacy by Carol Smallwood

  “Legacy” by Carol Smallwood   My grandmother pinned hairpin lace bibs on grandfather’s bathing beauty calendars, crocheted jelly glass holders for Queen Anne’s Lace. Her flour sack scarves—hemmed to look like they had no hems, have hourglass patterns echoing her figure unfamiliar with backs of chairs. As the neighborhood midwife she whispered: “garcon” for a boy, “jeune fille” if a girl to keep such delicate...

Read More