At eight years old we know weather advisory gray, know what is coming. We all have our discs at home, the wax to make them fast. …
Around the Block by Joy Beshears
I don’t know how many times I’ve circled your block looking for clues: lights on, cars in the parking lot, the dark form crossing the …
Shampoo Night by Joy Beshears
I was eight years old when I brought the kitten home. It was the summer I started riding horses, and to pay for my lessons …
Losing It by Joy Beshears
We were wild and determined that night, me sixteen, firm and flowering, needing to be loved. He was just some guy from school, looking older …
The House on Silver by Joy Beshears
My friends and I were all at a house on Silver Street in Greensboro, North Carolina. I can think of no reason for such a …
Traffic Jam, Butterfly by Joy Beshears
You flutter past my passenger-side window, bouncing through turbulence, wings luminous: a velvet Elvis under black light, collar glowing, satin lamb chops rising and falling …