Sally Stratford
Pah Tempe
Articles/Essays – Volume 33, No. 3
After another day hiking the desert,
I lock the door of my car,
and turn toward the hot springs
in the cool night.
The Empty Cistern
Articles/Essays – Volume 36, No. 1
Silence and grace,
the only words I know
in either of their languages,
so I don’t say much.
The Right Place
Articles/Essays – Volume 36, No. 3
Not one has made it.
Trout launch out of Snake Creek,
flipping through the air,
vaulting up the waterfall,
Inheritance
Articles/Essays – Volume 36, No. 3
I wear her name
and a two carat diamond
which, like a heavy rock of salt,
falls to the side between my fingers.
I’m sitting on a pink velvet chair