Willawaw Journal Fall 2022 Issue 15

David A. Goodrum

Flyover Country In Indiana I would stare at the birthing of contrails by jets heading west ‌     filled with…

2 years ago

John Grey

Tomatoes She stopped at the tomato vines as if to hug them, as if to grow on a vine like…

2 years ago

Allen Helmstetter

Winter Birth Fluffed hens cluck but black and black in the bitter night in the brooder house they cannot see…

2 years ago

James Kangas

Eventuality At some point after my father died my mother said: Life’s no fun anymore. I don’t know what she…

2 years ago

David Kirby

Hello, I Love You When I want to power up, I use my witchy voice and say, All hail, Macbeth,…

2 years ago

Tricia Knoll

Compassion Colors I figured this morning’s work would be blues writing. My friend’s son died the other night according to…

2 years ago

Linda Laderman

Today Would Have Been Our 50th Anniversary A mixed marriage. Clergy shuns us. The judge shushes us. I sentence you…

2 years ago

Kurt Luchs

No Reason This morning for no reason at all joy wells up inside me, joy beams from my eyes and…

2 years ago

David Memmott

Mother Worship 1. We’ve come too far to turn back now. The blue camas shimmering like a pluvial lake. We…

2 years ago