by Laine Derr
At 51, recalling a weathered father,
I order a gin martini, light vermouth
w/ a twist. He froze to death on a day
like this, a man no longer a man–
The crisp air reminds me of him.
Swirling memories, the doctors say
pain has tunneled to my wrists, years
of standing up, bagging and checking,
paper or plastic, motions of a mindless
class thinking on our feet, facing today.
The bone-dry ache reminds me of him.
West, Mourning. II (2023)
by Beth Horton
Laine Derr holds an MFA from Northern Arizona University and has published interviews with Carl Phillips, Ross Gay, Ted Kooser, and Robert Pinsky. Recent work has appeared or is forthcoming from J Journal, Full Bleed + The Phillips Collection, ZYZZYVA, Portland Review, Prairie Schooner, and elsewhere.
Beth Horton holds a degree in creative arts therapy, and she majored in health science at Niagara University, in Lewiston, New York. Her love for art began as a small child, watching her father paint into the wee hours of the morning. In addition to abstract art, Beth enjoys photography, mixed-media composition and sketches. Her work has appeared in several publications, including Aji Magazine, Club Plum, Olit, Months to Years, and Pensive.
Ignatian Literary Magazine 