Mrs. Wrightâ€™s Dream The white bowl howls at whiteness. Howls at pubescence, at the twinkling of it, as far as the eye can see. Being open to openness is not a good build for a home. Not if your daughter is a rabbit, and your son, a cracked gnome. And you, in truth, are a garden addicted to winter, to blows.
POETRY | 79
Fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, and art selected for our 2019 contest issue.