There is no always. —Susanna Sonnenberg Jump from the loft into plump timothy mound, forked there by a bent uncle, ready to feed piebald Holsteins, delicate Jerseys, oxen. Green sneezes, gasps. Mice scatter, chased by the brindle barn cat, snatching as her kittens mewl behind the highest bale. Light striped with motes that stick to […]
Karen Kilcup
Raised in the area the Abenaki people called Quascacunquen, Karen Kilcup is the Elizabeth Rosenthal Excellence Professor Emerita at UNC Greensboro. Her many books include Feathers and Wedges. She lives in the seacoast of New Hampshire with her partner Alan in the company of skunks, bobcats, coyotes, foxes, and bears.
Passages
Ample make this bed, / Make this bed with awe— —Emily Dickinson Emergencies are common things. Today the cat brought home a tufted titmouse with seed-black eyes, breast skin stripped, heart pulsing, body bare as a tongue. My lover swabs the gore with Q-tips and […]