Lee Haas Norris has worked on an archaeological dig in Romania with a bunch of college students who boycotted cabbage and soup of all kinds, prepared students for maturita in English at a Czech gymnazium, and served in the United States Peace Corps in Moldova. She has performed in the Portland Christmas Revels for seven years, plays the recorder with fellow early-music lovers, and has WWOOFed in Ireland with her husband. You can find her work in The Gettysburg Review, Persimmon Tree, and VoiceCatcher.
All work
More from The Journal
- Poetry
I have fallen in love with winter, /
with the day that ends at 3:45 in the afternoon. //
with the man striding along the path grasping /
a pink plastic bag that glows incandescent /
although it only contains dish soap /
and the cat food he carries home after work …
- Poetry
...you wonder again about the soul, /
Where it hides, where it ventures. /
There's always one you have to bring to oblivion...
- Poetry
I wanted to be gray-faced /
and hated by the Yankees /
in the suburbs past Carleton.
- Poetry
Once he’d made the long, impetuous trip, /
once we were there, evening air billowing my skirt /
over the Pacific, surf sweeping like brushes over drums, /
I knew we’d marry.
- Poetry
By Kris Spencer
I lived by a river with tides unresolved /
Under the house a sewer under a wooden board it ran /
Sometimes a tapping sometimes a hum in the night like a motor
- Poetry
By Christopher Chambers
and I dream of a young woman from Prague /
standing beside a red motorcycle as if so much /
depended upon it...
Read more Poetry or Postcard Prose
