“Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West Travel Log, Vol. 1”



“Amongst the Wildflowers”
I grew up amongst the wildflowers,
Where honeysuckle nights,
Blew the colored winds,
Through the fan-fared window.
LOOKING FOR ROCHESTER
I’m writing this essay on a glorious day in July—Independence Day, actually—and I’m here to discuss looking for my own independence, which is not to say, loneliness or even solitude which I gratefully have and enjoy. Guests come and go, are marvelous company while they’re here, but it’s hard to deny that having the space again to balloon up your own ego, and things such as the nail on which to hold your own red potholders, is nice. Continue reading “Jane Barnes”
The Comfort Room
I sat in an old, ratty recliner
In The Comfort Room.
With supervision, of course
Someone to judge my every facial expression
A bout of laughter
Or a single tear Continue reading “Melissa S. Bennett”