Stories

IC(Point of)View



by Nina Romano ’64

 

Cleansed with rose waters of my bath, I don a loose gown of shimmering lime cotton shot through with cucumber and silver silk. I wrap my head in...

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by Linda Byrnes Mitchell ’89

I stole these words
from you, one at a time,
furtively threading conversations
on a string that once held pearls.
The clasp broke as you left and
I clutched falling words to myself
still warm in spite of the growing
distance. Did you...

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by Christopher Lisee ’10

Death by newsprint—
the business section eclipsed the table lamp’s mirthless glow as Citgo’s Venezuela
Trouble
hit hard an unintended audience.

Perhaps he was meditating on death
or...

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by Gina Evers ’05

The mouths of three rivers salivate
as a December moon bears down onto the horizon.
I watch the old man cloak, uncloak.
Here, he says, they call this mid-winter.
"Mid” because many names for cold...

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When Shadrach left the furnace

All Babylon was ablaze,

Terrible and brilliant light

Slashing and clawing from walls

Of yellow brick, from palm fronds,

From the high sun that echoed

Jubilation.   The shafts leaped ...

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