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Wanting

If Vann kisses her, a mist will rise in her brain. A promise of oblivion.

War Widow

You smile into the phone static, the breath of your beloved.

Washed Away

The future was spread out for us to go in any direction we wanted.

Water Path

All my life I wondered what it is to vanish like a ring of smoke.

Watermark

Rain falls steadily, rattling down drainpipes and gurgling into gutters.

We Are What We Have Lost

Ella knew she hadn’t hurt Sebastian, but she knew she’d betrayed him.

We Did Not Have a Dog

“Wanna give it a go?” my brother asks, nudging me with his 12-gauge.

We Never Stop Talking about Our Mothers

Her husband is away at the family cabin, and she is glad for the space.

Weightless

The guy from the funeral home can’t get the gurney into the house.

What Danny Said

He squinted and looked off a little beyond where we were.

What Dark Tastes Like and Other Poems

Bright rot laces the air, light sharpens each leaf. On our way to fallow, fire.

What Do the Hands Remember?

The hands opened calmly like seeds, endured the passage of time.

What Makes a Good Story Great

Lori & Garry Marshall

What This Elegy Wants

It wants to name the dead—without a name you wander lost in the sky.

What We Have

It was spring: the field, a botanist’s mirage of wild flowers.

What Would You Have Me Do?

We’d never had a cross word, but I’d never corrected him.

What?

These sounds for you, verbs of attraction. Matters of tense.

Whatever Is the Matter

There is something on my mind rushing up as river in a locked car.

Whatever’s Left of Normal

Design a way to kill those rats, and do it now, Fiori, do it now.

When Enough Is Enough: Age and the Creative Impulse

What about writers who come suddenly into full power late in life?

When Enough Is Enough: Age and the Creative Impulse

What about writers who come suddenly into full power late in life?

When I Knew Stephen Crane

If he could not evade a serious question by a joke, he bolted.

When You Write the Story

When you write the story of being a father don’t leave out the joy.

Where the Rubber Meets the Road

The onus is on you, because you care about your car and your life.

White Fish

There isn’t a nice Jewish boy in sight—not that I’m looking for one.

White Houses

I open the door and Eleanor is leaning against the wall, paper white.

White Moon Rising

I never actually existed. I didn’t know it at the time, but it’s clear as day.

White Nights

Can there have been something in my letter, that unlucky letter?

Wild Snow

My job requires me to make things disappear like a Vegas magician.

Will and I

When the doctors’ voices started turning to noise, I didn’t fight it.