Insomnia, 3:45 AM

Insomnia, 3:45 AM

I’m up because I can’t stay down. I could blame the aspen raking a branch across the window. Or a wounded toy in the next room sending off a distress call of three long beeps. Or my wife, Jacqui, dreaming again of babies swimming inside her like tadpoles—maybe she...
Hands

Hands

  One minute I’m trying to take care of a dry spot at the side of the house, the next I’m staring at fallen hands. Not maple leaves, mind you—hands. I dropped the hose and felt the morning, and all its promises, empty straight through me. Just regular hands, rounded...
Why Write #14: Lance Larsen

Why Write #14: Lance Larsen

For Green Mountains Review’s 25th Anniversary Poetry Retrospective, published last spring, contributors were asked to submit short “Talk Back” essays reflecting on the poem’s genesis, influence, enduring relevance, and any number of strange...