2021 Pushcart Prize Nominees
"Sonnet to My Students on the First Day of Class" by Allison Berryhill SONNET TO MY STUDENTS ON THE FIRST DAY OF CLASS Come in and make a mess with all your thoughts. Here shake them loose and spill them on the page. Then push them, pull them, tie them into knots. Your words are laughter, questions, hopes, and rage. The writing in this room will echo, pound against our heads and hearts: cacophony. Then, crash of who we are creates a sound From which our hearts rise up: a symphony. For mess and noise and joyful chaos reign In space where all experiment and try. To set you free, I loose you from the chains, Release you to explore your inner eye. So, welcome. I invite you to a year Of messy, joyful learning without fear.
"Turtle Shells" by Heather Ann Clark TURTLE SHELLS My therapist asks what else is on my mind. A pithy incident, too long ago to recount without exposing more than I wish today. Instead, I tell her it's turtles. Turtle shells, actually. And how a wildlife refuge put out a call to women asking for the hook and loop pieces from discarded bras. How these garbage items are being attached to broken turtle shells. The victims of menacing cars barreling down the road, but saved by the strength of their shells and a kindly person to take them to shelter, where wire and patience guide the broken shell back together, until it fuses shut again on its own.
"Illness" by Jared Pearce ILLNESS It's like waiting for the elevator doors to release me, letting this virus run its course. Nothing will rub it out or bribe it, just the clicking of days; like sitting through meetings or finding the next politician, so many minutes have to expire, then life can resume its function toward beauty, rather then waiting for the clothes to dry or the shower to open or food to cook or cool or be available or the child to walk to stop walking or the girl to love and keep loving.
"On the Anniversary of Another Winter" by Shelly Reed Thieman ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF ANOTHER WINTER Tongue-tied with suet and peanut butter, a quartet of nuthatches nimble as eighth notes commune at the feeder. Owl calls my secret name as dusk raps his chapped knuckles on the kitchen window. Dog and I allow him in unshaven, his face creased deeply as an ancient blueprint. A mirage of deer disappears toward the pond while snow brushes layers of white over lashes of the pine bough. Tranquility lands, light as a moth. I invite it in for a snifter of brandy and like the moon, learn to harmonize with darkness.
"Dazed and Confused" by Erik Trilk DAZED AND CONFUSED It won't be long until I'm with the moon this summer. Bare feet whisper on midnight grass. Drenched dazed and confused afternoons soon. Flags furled high on the fourth. Ball caps slightly Off-balance. Out of order. Life shut down. Pebbles sprinkle high school bedrooms at night. "I'll be right down," she smiles, fearful of sound. Hands entwined; fingers sweat. Teenage forthright. Midnight memories turn into dawning suns. Iowa yawns her dawn's early sign. Small towns reveal their majestic awnings. Morning tiptoes through tall beams of sunshine. A girl kisses a boy. Lips stay disposed, smiling... until eyes are no longer closed.