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

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Sketch of a Woman Dreaming

~Joanna Vance

She is afraid of the rising moon,

shrinking from its searchlight

which moves within the universe

at an unfathomable speed,

and then settles on her skin.

Sometimes she dances,

or throws her body onto long grasses,

levitating above each blade’s insistency.

And the wind, when it moves her to leap,

loosens her worries; she falls asleep.

Dreams come parading in the form of

diminutively shaped hopes:

He boards the airplane, it shudders into sky,

and, later, finds her walking home.

He pleads for mercy on knees

that once allowed him to swagger.

For it was a February day

(now she is covered in a darkening room –

light is blue, light is grey)

and she had not loved,

but she was pressed to the edge, that month,

when he was the knife.

Receding from reach, an elusive phantom

and she startles, lights the lamp:

The glow focuses on her face.

Not on the black-eyed night

or the thousands of birds

that fly into the room, crying.