Tag Archives: Winter 2014

Amending Gray by Anne Bromley


Amending Gray   When does the snow begin to fall? I try to witness the change as the theme of this season grays. Bolts of felt clouds roll across the heavens, a basket of straight pins spills into the night, and I’ve been sewing a lot of gray, not to be somber, but to sway light as mist, soft as the winter coat of a wolf. Snug in my velvet jacket, fleece slippers, cotton sweats, their subtle weaves showing— not that I want anyone to notice me, to see what I wear sitting alone at … Continue reading Amending Gray by Anne Bromley

Desert Desperado by Cara Marinucci


Desert Desperado “Sometimes a person has to go a very long distance out of his way to come back a short distance correctly.” —Edward Albee What I wanted was a resurrection of love a love bearing all the gravity of one’s lifetime What I remember is being dead for all purposes the glint in my eye a sore memory of hope and regret Nothing else visits my imagination at this time the heavy smell of urine transforms any moment into being 28 and caught way beyond redemption strung out two nights in a squalid concrete … Continue reading Desert Desperado by Cara Marinucci

Phoenix by Juditha Dowd


“So, what do you think?” said Don. He’d hoped Alison might bring it up this time but she was staring out the big windows toward the marina, one of several on Venice Island where they were staying. He followed her gaze to anchored boats bobbing in the onshore breeze. Alison came to, shifted her attention back to him. “I guess that little Cape had possibilities.” She took another sip of the Sangiovese the waiter recommended, surprisingly good for such a well-priced wine. “Cape?” Don wasn’t versed in architectural styles. Curb appeal, price point—this was language … Continue reading Phoenix by Juditha Dowd

On the Move: Art by Stacey Evans

Skyline, New York, Fall 2011

  Growing up in Waynesboro, Virginia, a small town which photographer Stacey Evans describes as a mix of rural, urban, industrial and suburban landscapes, she remembers watching trains speed by and wondering, “’Where are they going?’ I wanted to go there too. Even now whenever I hear the train, there’s the mystery and romance of going somewhere.” In her late 20s, Evans started riding trains South and North to visit family and friends, and en route, noticed with increasing interest, the variation in the land. “I was really mesmerized by the changing landscape — the … Continue reading On the Move: Art by Stacey Evans

The Yellow House by Judy Longley

tiger swallowtail butterfly

Sleep bears me to the farmhouse slanted on a steep hill, commanding the highway below. Yellow clapboard and fieldstone constructed after the Civil War, the first floor a single room of stone, fireplace centering it. I warm my hands at the stone hearth—a rosemary bush flames silver-blue tongues, new stems uncoiling as fast as they burn. Through pungent smoke shades appear: my children young again, interrupted in their play, John, my professor husband with his eternal scatter of books, friends, just passing through and the ghost we all tolerated. A woman we agreed, wearing white … Continue reading The Yellow House by Judy Longley