Rappahannock Review | Issue 2.3: Jessica Greenbaum
2852
page-template-default,page,page-id-2852,qode-quick-links-1.0,ajax_updown_fade,page_not_loaded,,qode-theme-ver-12.1,qode-theme-bridge,wpb-js-composer js-comp-ver-5.2.1,vc_responsive

Sim Sala Bim by Gina Williams
“‘Is this all there is?’
The question caught me off guard for a split second, sucked a little bit of air from my gut…”

Where We Are by Jared Yates Sexton
“The thing that really got her was how I listened to records all hours of the night. She said she didn’t care about my moods, my general nihilism or ill temperament…”

Hunger, Not Tame by Sheila Lamb
“Brutal wind beat against the door of her camper. The cold didn’t bother her—Kate had only ever lived in cold and windy environments—but the sand did…”

Waiting for Flight by Michael Chin
“Carl Perkins spied his son’s ex, Lucy, in the airport terminal…”

Misfire by Joe Oestriech
“An hour after load-out, Biggie pulls the Econoline into the parking lot of the Raleigh Fairfield Inn…”

What of the Raven, What of the Dove by Randon Billings Noble
“A story was growing inside my neck but I didn’t yet know what it said…”

The Line by Amy Collini
“The week before I leave for freshman orientation at Ohio State, my father offers me a gift: an “in” at the plant where he works…”

Moth in the House by Jessica Greenbaum
“Skimming the wood floor like a bi-plane over the November fields,
might wonder where the breeze went, and all the chorus and lilt of the leaves…”

Bubble by Jessica Greenbaum
“Walking through the park, I saw a grackle ferrying a
bubble in its beak as it flew to the tree top where…”

Back Seat Event by Gabrielle Freeman
“I want to kiss you, but
I open the car door, and it is raining…”

Those Birds by Michael Colonnese
“Lined up on the wire,
each hunched…”

Everything She Can’t See by Liz Ahl
“The little girl is full of questions
and asks them all, one after another…”

Waterfront Metro Station by Elizabeth Acevedo
“through the speakers
the conductor’s voice scratched
a stop away from mine…”

Moth in the House

 

Skimming the wood floor like a bi-plane over the November fields,
might wonder where the breeze went, and all the chorus and lilt of the leaves
and attending call of here-and-there birds, the musk of the tomato plants
which have carpeted one yard, the still sea of concrete in another,
I wonder how the radio makes sense, or the rock-still yellow couch, or the
window which seems to offer all the sounds but only asks a riddle.

Print Friendly, PDF & Email

css.php