Debra Gwartney
Debra Gwartney has been rereading Anne Sexton’s poem “Yellow.” She and her sweetheart like to set lawn chairs in the shallows of the river near their home in Eugene, Oregon, and watch kayaks and mergansers drift by.
Siri Tells A Joke
My husband had been sick long enough, a string of years, that I’d begun to think of his diagnosis as a rumor. He was interminably terminally ill. Until he wasn’t.
July 2022Beat The Old Lady Out
I couldn’t see the loaves in her oven, but I could smell them. They smelled like the perfect weight of blankets on a winter night; like the loving and attentive parents I thought I deserved; like the solution to every natty problem that might crop up in life.
April 2021
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