Winter in the Rockies Chelsea Dingman Is this heaven? Hidden highways. An avalanche. Nothing around for miles to hear tires leave the road. The mountains bow, back-lit by white skies. I walk & wonder if I walk for any reason except to walk. My father, drenched in drifting snow, was left here. Yet I can’t say I’m closer to the truth about loss than I was as a child when the world I saw was a world that doesn’t ache to be anything else. It’s funny how easy it is to forget the sound of water in winter. I lay down on [...]

Mosaic BY LINDA PASTAN 1. THE SACRIFICE On this tile the knife like a sickle-moon hangs in the painted air as if it had learned a dance of its own, the way the boy has among the vivid breakable flowers, the way Abraham has among the boulders, his two feet heavy as stones. 2. NEAR SINAI God's hand here is the size of a tiny cloud, and the wordless tablets he holds out curve like the temple doors. Moses, reaching up must see on their empty surface laws chiseled in his mind by the persistent wind of the desert, by wind in [...]