Selkie by Sandra Cross
“Selkie” by Sandra Cross To earn my way to the beach I have to make it through the back yard past nodding buds of sour-grass their white corms underground waiting to be next spring’s weeds. Past the choking pepper tree its bark sliced by narrow wire golden sap marking a slow trail down its trunk, past the Azalea. smothered by sweet woodruff. Past a gopher proof hole waiting to be dug for the lavender...
There Was a Door by Leatha Kendrick
“There Was a Door” by Leatha Kendrick There was a door and her hand on its lever. In too many clothes – her coat’s wide cape collar, her high button shoes, a bonnet heavy and huge whose beruffled lining frames a thin face. Enough to smother a watcher. For more than a century she’s stood, not going through. Was she leaving or coming...
Rebuilding the ’63 Beetle by Nancy Krim
“Rebuilding the ’63 Beetle” by Nancy Krim The engine needs rebuilding he said and she said I’ll do it. But what about the camshaft? She said I can see it slipping there, sliding against the pulley I can see where the problem is. He said you’ll never get it down off the blocks to tow it, you won’t know where to order parts, how to disassemble— I know all about dissembling, she said. I’ve done it all my life....
On the Need to Re-establish Sovereignty Over My Own Heart by Trina Porte
“On the Need to Re-establish Sovereignty Over My Own Heart” by Trina Porte because the city machines hum even if they do not sing because the heart is actually made of muscle because the silver in my hair will one day be spent because the sun will rise on the day i am no longer married just as it will each day after ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here ...
The Last I Saw Mitsou by Karin Cecile Davidson
“The Last I Saw Mitsou” by Karin Cecile Davidson The last time I saw Mitsou, she was crying into an embroidered handkerchief that belonged to my mother. Mother believed in things that lasted. Linen, perfume, clothbound books. Newlyweds, Mitsou and I lived in the fifth-floor walkup. Small rooms with enormous views. Below us, the courtyard, mottled with pale brown stones. Our windows faced the pianist,...
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August 8-9 | immersion | noon to noon EST
WAVES ALIVE is an immersive experience, held tenderly by the ebb and flow of ritual, sisterhood, creative expansion, then surfacing to share what we have uncovered about ourselves and our art. Creative sisters are invited to join us at any point and remain for any length of time during our full-circle offering.
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The Deepest Place Jul 26, 2025
