Sudden Prose: Prose Poetry and Short-Short Stories

 Object Poem We do not write about the object--we write about the shadow it casts or the reflection it throws back at us. We talk about the ...

What Death Said Here the wind is too subtle, too unseen. Even the dew on the grass is safe, the ant's straight line over the slate and t...

  Early Retirement After many years abroad, I moved to a small village in Cornwall. The locals immediately took to me because I seemed forei...

Volunteer We were all in a large tent. Sitting at untidily laid-out trestle tables, we had to sort out hundreds of letters, stick labels wit...

  Evolution   There were some large black ducks, not unlike dodos, by the German lake. I began pushing one gently by the beak until it pushe...

XXXII      They said that the god was coming to visit. The bustling began at dawn. We set out the best tablecloth, the most exquisite ...

IX Last night again I saw the chest of drawers, the oldest, from my grandmother's wedding, my mother and her sisters' youth, m...