Doors by Dawn Banghart
“Doors” by Dawn Banghart Each morning can start different or like this. Each morning can be an open door. Forget the coffee, forget the shower if you could forget responsibilities right now where would you go after tugging open the door? Nothing is needed, not even your shoes leave them, laces untied, lights off. Outdoors you will find a predawn sky a faint brightness in the east with one airplane coming or...
Women’s Work by Jude Rittenhouse
“Women’s Work” by Jude Rittenhouse I am ironing. Mother said that, when I was a baby, I watched her iron. Hour after hour. In the 1950’s, women pressed dresses, napkins, stacks of men’s white shirts, even sheets. My eyes followed her hands, back and forth, endlessly smoothing life’s wrinkles and creases. All of my adult life, I have hated ironing. Now, I am ironing. Another woman friend has learned: cancer....
Psalm of Fire and Water by Cristina Baptista
“Psalm of Fire and Water” by Cristina Baptista “[Christ’s] mother gave birth to him without ever having loved. She wasn’t a woman: she was a suitcase.”...
Call by Alla Bozarth
“Call” by Alla Bozarth Inspired by “Mountain Moving Day,” 1911, by the Japanese Feminist Poet, Yosano Akiko. There is a new sound of roaring voices in the deep and light-shattered rushes in the heavens. The mountains are coming alive, the fire-kindled mountains, moving again to reshape the earth. It is we sleeping women, waking up in a darkened world, cutting the chains from off our...
Stone Love by Joanna Clapps Herman
“Stone Love” by Joanna Clapps Herman I search the river bed Feeling for stones Use only my toes Curl my distal digits around Pick them up with these unhands Carry them with me A punishment For grief that, Unworded cannot find tears. This grief knows nothing Recognizes nothing Claims nothing Is mute I long for tears, but I am uncreatured A dull stone. ____________________ Share your response to this...
Art is my taste for freedom. I drown day and day until I pick up my paintbrush once again. So, somehow, I can tell myself that you’re not stuck in this room and that the canvas is the key.
Nina Salvadoré
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Seabed or ocean floor? What is the difference?
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This time, there is no setting our art aside. This time, there is no setting our art asunder. This is our time.
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seabed or ocean floor Sep 26, 2025
