AT LEAST I FEEL SOMETHING, I THINK, AS I RUN THE SAME ROUTE
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& by God, that night I still ran beneath dark branches. The neighborhood looks different today, the shut-up carwash florescent, aqua flourishes on chipped stucco— Lately everything is a metaphor. I shout at the leaves: When will I learn my own needs? Call it whatever, this faith that today when I spring alone into the street, at some point traffic will have to stop me. |
Theodora Ziolkowski is the author of On the Rocks, winner of a 2018 Next Generation Indie Book Award, and Mother Tongues. Her work has appeared in Glimmer Train, The Writer's Chronicle, Short Fiction, Prairie Schooner, and elsewhere. She is the recipient of the Inprint Marion Barthelme Prize in Creative Writing. Recently, she served as Poetry Editor for Gulf Coast and Fiction Editor for Big Fiction. She is currently pursuing her PhD in Literature and Creative Writing at the University of Houston.