Blog : Beautiful-Things

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Shame and Drum

Shame and Drum By Robert W. Fieseler   |  May 22, 2017
In the Midwestern auditorium, a tired Richard Ford reads a fiction about Grand Central Station to a ticketed crowd as tired and sparse as his scalp. He is old and disappointed, and he is reading about old disappointment...

What Matters

What Matters By Isaac Yuen   |  May 15, 2017
Thursday is "Cosmic Night" at the space centre. I am waiting for three friends by the giant crab outside. The late George Norris designed the twenty-foot sculpture. Stainless steel pincers grasp for the sky.

Yield

Yield By Kelly Miller   |  May 8, 2017
Waiting at a red light after dropping off videos. I've nosed my car onto the cross walk, hoping it will trigger the light to change more quickly...

YES

YES By Michael Fischer   |  May 1, 2017
Anthony’s text just says, “YES.” I’ve decided to change my flight to Boston, to move it up five days. He’s floundering, just doesn’t sound right; the 25th could be too late. Sooner. Have to get there sooner...

Kinetic Energy

Kinetic Energy By Sam Brighton   |  April 24, 2017
Weeks after California first legalized queer marriages but before the voters snatched them away in 2008, my girlfriend introduced me to the dyke march...

Saturday Night

Saturday Night By Don Dussault   |  April 17, 2017
Every day I flash on scenes and sounds of Fallujah. There are ways of grounding them...

Kerria

Kerria By Jenny Apostol   |  April 10, 2017
“Cheerful!” she said, “What is it?” Then recognizing the compact rows of marigold trophies lining spray upon spray arcing over the yard, “Oh, kerria, that was my mother’s favorite.” A moment of silence for one mother’s mother gone twenty years...

Bottled Memories

Bottled Memories By Stephanie Eardley   |  April 3, 2017
Golden jars glisten. Forty-nine quarts of autumn ripeness and summer’s bronze made sweet by the kiss of blizzards to come. Like a mother waiting for the reassuring cry of her newborn, I pine for the pop of jars sealing...

A Dress for the Wedding

A Dress for the Wedding By Lisa Romeo   |  March 27, 2017
You are modeling dresses and your husband votes for the one with the bouncy hem and V-neck. "It shows your nice cleavage!" "Yeah, for everyone." But in fact, you like your cleavage, and it's good to like something about your body...

The Boarding School Letters

The Boarding School Letters By Ah-reum Han   |  March 20, 2017
But consider for example the six-year-old daughter, face down on her new dorm bed, who cannot possibly imagine what to write to her mother a thousand miles away...

Paradise Lost

Paradise Lost By Angie Crea O'Neal   |  March 13, 2017
My daughter spies it first, the butterfly limp on the pavement...

Holding Hands

Holding Hands By Stephanie Dethlefs   |  March 6, 2017
We walk up the stairway of my grandmother's porch. Towers of brick flank the stairs, which later we will scramble up to leap into the soft green grass below...

Dead Man Tim

Dead Man Tim By Cheryl Lynn Smart   |  February 27, 2017
Tim's apartment was cleaned and all his belongings put out on a curb in the parking lot. This is the saddest part...

Yes, They've Met

Yes, They've Met By Jolene McIlwain   |  February 20, 2017
There's a 1/16 scale Texaco truck parked on our mantle, its frame crooked and stack bent from ways it's been stored. I dust it. Then, I dust my son's toolbox, an eighth-grade shop project etched with the name he's inherited from good stock. My husband's grandfather drove a Texaco truck...

Ice

Ice By Heather Osterman-Davis   |  February 13, 2017
I'm nine months pregnant with my first child, and the snow in NYC has been beaten into submission. I've just come off a packed subway...

Seattle, After the Rain

Seattle, After the Rain By Anna Vodicka   |  February 6, 2017
To the birds, we must look like ants at a picnic, the way we crawl from our dark caves and run crazed for sidewalks and grassy parks...

This is Where You'll Find Me

This is Where You'll Find Me By Jenny Lara   |  January 30, 2017
New York City, after we lied then made rules. It shouldn't work by a long shot but it does....

Lines of Light

Lines of Light By Clara Mae Barnhart   |  January 23, 2017
At sunset in Burlington the power lines are golden like the afterglow of sparklers when children twirl them in the air. A frayed ribbon of sunlight stretches out...

What We Did with the Honey

What We Did with the Honey By Julia Shipley   |  January 16, 2017
The day we learned you were gone, Howie says he knocked, nothing answered.

Parabolic

Parabolic By Jack Bedell   |  January 9, 2017
His first summer married, my father tended chickens. His job was to chase the birds out of the tin coop on hot days...
Keywords: jack bedell, parabolic  |   3 comments

Morning (repeat)

Morning (repeat) By Michelle Webster-Hein   |  January 2, 2017
When my infant daughter wakes at two in the morning and her father cannot coax her back to sleep...

White (repeat)

White (repeat) By Jennifer Bowen Hicks   |  December 26, 2016
We no longer remember the sound of birdsong or the feel of dry pavement beneath our feet, but we walk to school anyway because school is the place we're meant to walk to on Tuesday mornings. Temperatures register -23 below zero...
Keywords: beautiful things, white  |   3 comments

Grace (repeat)

Grace (repeat) By Aaron J. Housholder   |  December 19, 2016
"Thank you," I tell the manager, "for taking my order so late." The sizzle of the grill frames my words. "I appreciate it."
Keywords: beautiful things, grace  |   4 comments

Holding (repeat)

Holding (repeat) By Kathryn Wilder   |  December 12, 2016
My sister and I live on either side of sixty. We've been mothers half our lives. Visiting her in Oregon, Ashland running a steady hundred degrees for days into weeks, we head to Lake of the Woods...

Turkey Soup (repeat)

Turkey Soup (repeat) By Marissa Landrigan   |  December 5, 2016
On Thanksgiving, after the turkey is carved and gutted - after we slice through half of the twenty-pound bird my mother insists on ordering...

Birthday Cards

Birthday Cards By Jia Lim   |  November 28, 2016
Once, I wrote a birthday poem for her forty-second. It described her love of wine, and how she was so very fine. Exceedingly satisfied at the neat rhyme and my infinite untapped potential, I awaited glowing praise...

An Absence of Yellow

An Absence of Yellow By Lisa Laughlin   |  November 21, 2016
It's mid-August and already my grandfather's pumpkins boast a bright orange. His cucumbers have laced thin vines up the patio rail. The tomatoes flush cherry-red in waves. My grandparents bribe me with vegetables to come for a visit...

Claudia

Claudia By Jo-Anne Cappeluti   |  November 14, 2016
She was only 15 and already had lost a leg to bone cancer. Our high school girls' Sunday school class had pondered this for a few weeks...

In the Fold

In the Fold By Ariana Brocious   |  November 7, 2016
She wields a basket of clean linen with easy confidence: one, two moves across the chest to make a towel into thirds...

Only Now

Only Now By Suzanne Farrell Smith   |  October 31, 2016
Only now, as you stand center of an aisle carpeted royal blue, where you and your older sisters, styled by mother in hand-sewn dresses to match her own, once trailed like ducks down the narrow river...

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