Thanksgiving in Hometowns For thrum of yellow through sycamoresand slant of sunlight through milk jug’s rounded edges. For gold-ignited summerand star-spangled boneweed on the road. For the scarecrow in my mindthat calls me back a million times. The November sky is a freshly-pressed shirt.Leaves start unfastening from their branches. Kate Wylie is a softball coach and […]Read more "Thanksgiving in Hometowns"
Ocean City I’m on a fifth-storyhotel balconyat the crack of dawn staring past a row of rental propertiestoward vast waters beyond, as I wonderwhat ghosts lieon the hungover streets below. What sort of jukebox jiveor inebriated highdid that last breeze carry through? It’s a mid-summer den,a damn hotbed,of debauchery and sin on this morning after […]Read more "Ocean City"
August It is no easier to escape August than January – late summer lassitude bows the asters, curls the sunflowers just as the blizzard quiets winter. My hammock is my sled hurtling with frogs in first fall of alder leaves, swinging over plums fried on the patio, watching the squirrel choose soft figs over peanuts. […]Read more "August"
Haircut in Summer, South India My sister-in-law cut my niece’s hair— a strand, then a chunk, for each drop of sweat that taunted and whispered fever— until long black locks were shoulder high— then chin— then cut close to the head. A boy’s cut, she said would make the fever go away. Jennifer Jeremiah is […]Read more "Haircut in Summer, South India"
Night, Cyan Young woman, come and sit with us ghosts of wisdom on the veranda under the shelter of a night sky that is cyan and purple in color. Forget the shadows of his arms Instead feel the darkness of a summer night as crickets in their chorus begin to share with you all the […]Read more "Night, Cyan"
Between Grief and Joy The beaten path is nondescript, a right of way through pristine lawns and tree-lined streets of gracious homes, well-shaded in the heat of day and sound as caves on winter nights, with mantled fires burning low to warm the dens of hibernating souls. You head due south beyond the park and […]Read more "Between Grief and Joy"
The Elephant with the Bright White Toenails Oregon Zoo, Portland In the dust of her summer days, trudging with the whole troop of her adopted family from feeding lot to waterhole in the expanded enclosure, swaying with measured steps as elephants do, trunk curled up, her large ear flaps sweeping the air like paper fans […]Read more "The Elephant with the Bright White Toenails"
Becoming Winter has summer become your winter does sun on your skin make you shiver do happy voices and laughter drifting in sound like a howling north wind to you do you shut shutters close windows pull down the shades curl up inside while leaves and flowers are unfurling hibernating June, July and August just […]Read more "Becoming Winter"
Meridith Frazee lives in Charlottesville, Virginia. She enjoys reading and spending time outdoors. More of her work can be found in Crossroads VII or in her school’s literary magazine. how to wait for June, and happiness because she is so fragile wait for her with empty hands because she’s golden green grass delay your […]Read more "how to wait for June, and happiness"
End-of-August Misgivings of the Old Woman Jealous of the First Grader’s New School Shoes the sign down the road – do not pick blackberries – yellow jackets our final peach pie pits and skins swarming with flies a sketch of bird song in a failing tree broken fence railings dry foxglove seed silent rocks in […]Read more "End-of-August Misgivings of the Old Woman Jealous of the First Grader’s New School Shoes"