“Poem for Dad” http://blogs.goddard.edu/pitkin/fall-2012/
“Not Yes” Hippocampus Magazine
“Old Bill and a Howling” http://toskamag.com/2013/01/18/old-bill-and-a-howling-trisha-winn/
“Ecofeminism and Cultural Memory in Joy Harjo’s Poetry: Writing in ‘the Enemy’s Language'” http://www.peninsulacollegepress.org
“Stone Imagining” http://egjournal.org/winter-2013-memory-dream/
@trishawinn micro-essays (as seen on Twitter and cnfonline)
I mix flour, yeast and water, then climb on the counter and knead on all fours, trying like hell to pound some sense into my world.
His breathy act of contrition–a kiss in the dip above my collarbone—is the last bit to surface when I dig up these old bones.
At age 38, folding fitted sheets is still mystifying, and way beyond my pay grade.
We are not going to Dad’s for Thanksgiving this year. He’s cooking a 22 pounder out of sheer spite.
It is hard to doubt his sincerity–his smile is anchored in his kisses–but I find a way.