Against My Own Current; Out in Plain Air by Lisa Lutwyche
“Against My Own Current; Out in Plain Air” by Lisa Lutwyche I haven’t worn a swimsuit in over fourteen years. I’ve walked on a beach or two, sat by swimming pools watching other people swim, but always wearing shorts and a tank top myself. The only people to see my torso uncovered, or barely covered, have been medical personnel, my husband, and my brave, then fifteen year old daughter, right after my...
Make a Body by Nancy Meyer and Janet Trenchard
“Make a Body” by Nancy Meyer and Janet Trenchard First chip away at a block of granite, pour water over it, rub with oil. In her hands, the heft of chisel, hammer, pitcher. Dust whitens the floor, leavens her hair. Studio walls close in, tools slip, she wheezes with each breath. Should she leave it out in a rain storm, hope for lightening’s magic crack? Climb above tree line, spine against the boulders’ heat,...
Snatch by Christine Wade
“Snatch” by Christine Wade A woman invented and named an art form while she was sleeping. It is called the Snatch. It is a short piece of writing, usually one page. It is many words strung together. A Snatch is not rarified like a poem. But sacred, none-the-less. Nor is it a fairy tale. Although it could be an old wife’s fable . . . it could be a birth story. A Snatch smells sweet and is under the word count....
What It Takes by Karen McElmurray
“What It Takes” by Karen McElmurray Recently, I was part of a panel discussion on strong women called “Kiss My Grits: On the Badass in Appalachian Literature.” It was easy to think of any number of strong women who are badass in the books I love most from the mountains. Gertie Nevel in Harriet Arnow’s The Dollmaker came to mind first, followed closely by other strong women characters like Carrie Marie...
Terrible Girls by Jennifer Patterson
“Terrible Girls” by Jennifer Patterson Inspiration moves between their bodies and mine. We try to catch it, trace its lines on paper. Petra Rowan Rhines brought me to Helene Cixous and one time, from an airplane, she texted me a long passage from Cixous. I imagined her, Petra, peering out of her window trying to find me below the cloud cover in a valley between two mountains. (Always in between.) She is very...
Does the sea remember everything? I wonder.
Does she absorb everything? Does she keep it safe?
Virginia Woolf
. . .
The Q: Can you fathom the spectacle that would be created if we moved together, arms outstretched, close enough to touch?
The Q: What echoes through you that longs to take form—a poem, an image, a mark, a whisper of becoming?
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fathoms Feb 28, 2026 -
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