By Yvonne Nguyen i.Wild grass grows golden, tall enough thatI cannot find my own feet in front of me.Sometimes I lay down,invisible in the dead forest of my own front…
A Sacred Harmony
by Peter Grandbois Here is the sunrise witheringall we desire with unearned grace Here is our first mistake throbbingwith intimations of happily ever after And here, every note fingeredfrom the…
Implicit Bias in the Wilds of Allen County
by Jeff Gundy Only a few of us ever need to whistle Vivaldi to reassurethe nervous suburbanites. Some of us answer “tired old prof” when asked our true identity, or…
Deer; Twilight
by Nick Conrad Crops of plenty gone in an instant, the combine’s quick harvest leaving enough still for days of grazing, snout close to earth, lips, teeth seizing the shattered…
Thrift Shop Hymn
by Bethany Bowman I no longer listen to Christian radio; its choruses pop and sap, and bellowing, caviling voices of Southern evangelical pastors make me want to…
Old Growth
—Cudahy Woods, 2020 by Jacob Riyeff Sleet and stiff breeze cold about the ears,the children tramp along, rejoice in chilled mudstreaming down the path and pooling in booted puddles.Mayapple stands…
You Take What You Can
by Peter Grandbois What I am trying to say is that long ago I walked into a field. What I mean is that long ago I had a choice. Or…
Tell Me Everything
Tell me everything you know about the orange sky