Blog : Beautiful-Things

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Jesus, the Wonder Bread of Life

Jesus, the Wonder Bread of Life By Rachel Rueckert   |  March 25, 2019
Mom gave me the idea, an object lesson given to her as a girl. "Pass it around," I said to my Mormon Bible study class. After a pause, the other preteens passed around the slice of Wonder Bread....

Perennial

Perennial By Kristine Jepsen   |  March 18, 2019
Yesterday my uncle Russ, my dad's older brother, texted me a video of a peony bush in bloom. The plant isn't his—he left the farm where it grows, in the remains of his mother's garden, to become a middle-school band director a half-century ago. But he can't stop tending things, a dogged farmer....

Very Large Array

Very Large Array By Ann Vallee   |  March 11, 2019
While traveling in New Mexico, I made a pilgrimage to the high desert to see the Karl G. Jansky Array, curious to witness a telescope as big as a valley....

Midnight Feedings

Midnight Feedings By Alexa Dodd   |  March 4, 2019
We are limbs, braided and heavy, under sheets reluctant to release us. We are dreams interrupted, sleep sliced away like an appendage, the knife a familiar siren, filling the space between walls. We are silhouettes, faceless shapes against muted window glow....

Young Moons

Young Moons By Melissa Sevigny   |  February 25, 2019
The moon drifts in the west, too thin to be called a crescent, Venus above like a sleeping child lowered by invisible hands into a cradle. It's a glimmer in the sunset sky above a skyline of pine, a sweep of summer grass....

October

October By Kathryn Wilder   |  February 18, 2019
October light leaks between slats of graying barn wood. A yellow stripe marks Craig's cheek, his shoulder. I taste salt and smell sun on skin and in the hay beneath me that makes our bed in the neighbor’s old hay barn, a place we run to in daylight....

Powerless

Powerless By Madeline Bodin   |  February 11, 2019
Our off-the-grid neighbors say that they know when the power has gone out because a chorus of hums rises from the generators in the valley. Now, our house has joined that choir....

Life Science

Life Science By Michelle Hope   |  February 4, 2019
You taught me, once, about the Swainson's thrush—its call like an invitation to another world: a swirling up of sound, unseen. Teach me the names of all the birds you know, and how they sing....

Back Aisles (repeat)

Back Aisles (repeat) By Ashley Hutson   |  January 28, 2019
The library building was my body like your children are your body, like your spouse is your body. Its wood and glass grew out of my chest. It came with a key and code. 

Mosque/Musk

Mosque/Musk By Heidi Czerwiec   |  January 21, 2019
I want to tell you that the word 'musk' comes to us from the Sanskrit mushkas, meaning 'testicle,' testimony to source in the aromatic abdominal sacs of musk deer....

Say When, Say It Louder

Say When, Say It Louder By Rachael Peckham   |  January 14, 2019
You pinned me to the basketball court in the middle of gym class while Mrs. Thompson was busy tending to a "situation" in the locker room, or off fetching ice from the cafeteria....

Ghost Sigh

Ghost Sigh By Terry Parker   |  January 7, 2019
I survey the elegant glass skyline crowded on the tray: the fine-boned Chanel, curvy Burberry, sleek Cabochard. The bottles display various levels of fragrant amber liquid, belying their owner’s favor. Each has its unique cap or stopper, competing like fancy hats at the Derby....

Forced Quince, as Study

Forced Quince, as Study By Arra Ross   |  December 31, 2018
The way, on the fourth day, the sepals' little leaflets, grown twice yesterday's size to a fourth inch, have curled back–like legs spread or backs arched—from the buds, and....

Pooled in Ripples

Pooled in Ripples By Holly Pelesky   |  December 24, 2018
I wasn't like the other 22-year-olds after you, carelessly wearing bright bikinis. I was too preoccupied with how I looked suddenly: child bearing hips, a soft middle....

Miracle at Delancey Street

Miracle at Delancey Street By Jean-Marie Saporito   |  December 17, 2018
My drive to the Delancey Street Christmas Tree lot begins on snowy roads through a canyon hemmed by pinion and sage studded cliffs and the icy Rio Grande....

Hair and Nails

Hair and Nails By Mary Elizabeth Reilly-McGreen   |  December 10, 2018
Jen was so venomous that I stopped having my students read their journal entries aloud. She said such cutting things unsolicited. She made a student cry just by staring at him....

Standoff at Wolf Creek

Standoff at Wolf Creek By Rachel Smith   |  December 3, 2018
I tell Cory "no" again. I can't help him resurrect dinosaurs using chicken eggs, even if I am impressed that an eight-year-old already knows so much about genetics and paleontology....

When and How

When and How By Anna Claire Beasley   |  November 26, 2018
1) A tent flap When the zipper teeth cut the air, filling the tent, humid from a night of bodies letting out breath after breath....

First Flight

First Flight By Sarah Curtis   |  November 19, 2018
My first memory is a lie: I am a baby, flying around the living room....

Eighteen, Both of Us

Eighteen, Both of Us By Sarah Weaver   |  November 12, 2018
And still unkissed. Blame it on our strict Christian homes, the rules at the Bible school we were attending, guilt, or just plain old nerves....

Correction

Correction By Sian Griffiths   |  November 5, 2018
I am correcting your typos (fallow becoming follow, gooing becoming going), correcting the interesting but incorrect with the boring and banal because what you meant was boring and banal....

Art Lesson (repeat)

Art Lesson (repeat) By Joanne Lozar Glenn   |  October 29, 2018
They saved it for Fridays. Every teacher had the same projects. Fall: iron leaves between waxed paper. Winter: chalk snow scenes on black construction paper. Spring: draw daffodils. Except for Miss Malik. She was young, pretty, and not a nun....

The Day to Day (repeat)

The Day to Day (repeat) By Jessica Terson   |  October 22, 2018
Sifting the flour. Squeezing the lever once. And then waiting. For a moment, it is winter again. I take my finger and make snow angels in the little blue bowl. After you died, they said the only thing to do was keep on living....

Maps

Maps By Abby Mims   |  October 15, 2018
Dr. A, my mother's handsome Bolivian neurosurgeon, lost his father on Everest. I pictured whorls of snow, a crumpled map and a man, stepping into thin air....

Window Vent

Window Vent By Lynne Barrett   |  October 8, 2018
You take me for a ride in a sixties Oldsmobile. The radio doesn't work and you had to put additive in the gas....

Late

Late By Laurel Santini   |  October 1, 2018
You hoped she wouldn't show up today, the student who scares you. She in her crop tops and lace-up tanks, her camis with labels like Juicy or Nasty Gal that stick up between her thick shoulder blades....

My Grandmother's Pie Plate

My Grandmother's Pie Plate By Kiley Bense   |  September 24, 2018
I'm the one filling it now, and I've never minded sugar under my fingernails less. Its surface is dark with shine; it's been swallowing butter and heat for two lifetimes at least....

The Band Reunited and We All Bought Tickets

The Band Reunited and We All Bought Tickets By Darlene Young   |  September 17, 2018
Praise God for a venue with a parking lot....

Vantage Point

Vantage Point By Donna Steiner   |  September 10, 2018
Some boys found a little brown bat in the parking lot outside the surgeon's office. Delicate as a tea bag, they poked it with a stick, kicked it....

A Grandmother Listens

A Grandmother Listens By Gail Hosking   |  September 3, 2018
She is a bird in song with whole consonants flying out of the cave of her tiny mouth, the tones airborne like a floating leaf. She hands me a block, and with it comes language not yet molded into comprehension, but so sweet, that I listen carefully like one does on a forest walk....

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