More on: Lisa Williams

or something in the sight adjusts itself to midnight…. —Emily Dickinson For a while, I’ve been considering nothing. The nothing my grandmother refused and my grandmother’s grandmother, all of them stretching back through the void with their kinds of certainty bracing the light of the stars. In the Methodist church, my grandmother opened her hymnal,…

The animal in us wants to leap up, leap out maybe, like the dog on its chain trying to bound higher and farther than the chain allows because the two boys in their kiddie pool are bounding, scooping up water in their hands and tossing it and jumping, as the woman beside the house on…