by Helen Ivory | Aug 11, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
The calling You’re sitting in the half-light, in a cavern scoured from limestone, on a boulder by an underground stream. Behind: a dark tunnel, too narrow to crawl through, where water flows from, cool and clear. Ahead: heaped debris, the walls of...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 10, 2023 | Featured, Prose
Quince There is a quince tree in the Alice Munro short story The Moons of Jupiter, and also in the poem “Lunch With Pancho Villa” by Paul Muldoon. In the novel The Love of Singular Men, by the Brazilian author Victor Heringer, a mother beats her...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 9, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
The sisters of stone wend their way in a line one after another the sisters of stone walk across the hollow lake quieten their legs on the dry drowned bridge listening they prayer their fingertips around the cupped whim stones that hold neither...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 8, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Proposal Oh yes, I can still rise with the best of them, sink with the worst. I can play my violin outside your door as easily as spit on your roses. How would you like your jazz? Perfectly syncopated or horribly atonal? I got the sun in the...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 7, 2023 | Featured, Prose
Breaking Bread with Strangers When the stranger came to my house, he brought bread. “Here,” he said, “You take it.” And then he sat down at the dinner table, waiting to be served. I placed the bread on a board. My wife brought in the brisket and...
