by Christopher Sturdy The first time I discovered my grandpa crying was on thanksgiving. He played it off with a meandering speech, You know…Northerners know somethin’ about trees. Fallin’ leaves always gettin’ us ready to grieve. That’s when it’s safe. Them branches hold it on the nights you can’t. At eight years old, I only …
by Kristin Camitta Zimet Body remembers better than Mind. Shakes its head if you take off the collar, pointing its muzzle back at the loop. Pushes stiff hind legs to get up on the couch, stays there months, years, waiting for his key to scrape the lock. Burrows back of the curtain, fogs …
Your house is on fire and your children all gone —Mother Goose We were alone the first time the house caught fire. I round the corner to flames rolling up the cabinets, across the ceiling—the kitchen a sheet of shimmering heat. Linda whisks by, scattering chairs, emerges with the birdcage. Sisters pour …