Stonework is published by Houghton College, a Christian liberal arts college located in New York’s rural Genesee Valley. Stonework seeks a diverse mix of mature and emerging voices in fellowship with the evangelical tradition. Published twice a year, the journal reflects the arts community at Houghton College where excellence in music, writing, and the visual arts has long been a distinctive.

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  • Issue 6
    Poetry by Paul Willis and Thom Satterlee. Fiction and interview with Lori Huth. Essay by James Wardwell, and student poets from Christian campuses.
  • Issue 5
    Poetry by Susanna Childress and Debra Rienstra. Fiction excerpt by Emilie Griffin. Art from Houghton's 2007 presidential inauguration and a forum on women writing.
  • Issue 4
    Matthew Roth--new poems. Diane Glancy--from One of Us and an interview. John Tatter-on gardens and poetry. The Landscapes of John Rhett. Stephen Woolsey--on the poetry of Jack Clemo. James Wardwell--on Herrick.
  • Issue 3
    Poetry by Julia Kasdorf, Robert Siegel and Sandra Duguid. Fiction by Tom Noyes. The portraits of Alieen Ortlip Shea. An anthology of Australian Poets
  • Issue 2
    Thom Satterlee - Poems from Burning Wycliff with an appreciation by David Perkins. Alison Gresik - new fiction and an interview. James Zoller - Poems from Living on the Floodplain.
  • Issue 1
    Luci Shaw — new poems with an appreciation by Eugene H. Peterson & Hugh Cook — new fiction and an interview

Thursday, May 01, 2008

The Country Raconteur Defeats Cliche

~ Brett Foster

Paring his nails as his wife mends,
he makes it sound like yesterday.
Her smile from the rocker portends
the outcome of what he means to say.

He swears he's old and not much good,
legs won't hold for coalers' dances.
But there's fire behind what occurred
within the Church of St. Francis,

where they met and planned their hard life.
She desired what he was, homegrown
son of a mining clan, whose waifs
packed the parish in Morgantown.

When I saw her I thought my heart
had stopped. Mouth open, he stares wildly –
here, now – beyond the davenport
down some phantasmal, pew-lined aisle.

I, while he folds his army blade,
decide he said that worn-out phrase
free of all dullness, but instead
reverently precise. Amazed,

he captured it well and realized
everything the moment meant: bright
covenant and him paralyzed,
made speechless, almost, by the sight.