Carol Light has sliced and transected the U.S. in station wagons, from Texas to North Dakota, from Tampa to Seattle, and from Port Townsend to Vermont. Whenever she can, she spends summers writing in Italy, and aspires to further adventures in Ireland and India. You can find her work in Narrative, Poetry Northwest, and Prairie Schooner.
All work
Poor spent corsage of courage /
and the crushed tissue of I miss you, /
and the send-and-receive-all chronicle /
of thought. …
Would I miss the way a breeze dimples /
the butter-colored curtains on Sunday mornings, /
or nights gnashed by cicadas and thunderstorms? …
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