For Professor Sikkink Rickety and gabble-squawked with chickens, the bus bumps rough across screed pocks and potholes, veering hairpin turns around cliff edges. The drop is sheer, heartstopping, final. Such a plunge that clouds obscure the bottom like a shroud. On this dust-encrusted road, death and dirt churn into sepia motes, cover up the people […]
Alison Hurwitz
Alison Hurwitz is a former cellist and dancer who now finds music in language. A two-time 2023 Best of the Net Nominee, she is the founder/host of the monthly online reading, Well-Versed Words. Widely published, Alison’s work is forthcoming in Sky Island Journal, South Dakota Review, Raven’s Muse, and Writing in a Woman’s Voice. When not writing, Alison officiates weddings and memorial services, takes singing lessons, walks in the woods with her family, and dances in her kitchen. Find her at alisonhurwitz.com
My Father’s Box
My mother moves his resting place each day from room to room. The ashes shift inside the wooden dove-tailed box, mute as sleeping birds. I want to lift the silence up and hold him, put him to my ear like that rare and convoluted shell he found near Cape Perpetua. (You will always find the […]