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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & Owner
Ray Rasmussen, General Editor

Volume 11, Number 3, September 2017
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Iris Lee
Brooklyn, New York, U.S.A.


Good Morning

I’ve woken from a terrible dream into a gray rainy day. Could matters be worse? My sister died one month ago. Has that much time passed? Wow. The rain taps at my window. People below in the street open their umbrellas, believing that a stretched piece of colorful nylon will protect them. I dreamt that my daughter and I slid down a chute of snow which debouched onto a sheer drop. We were trapped. I shouted myself awake. There’s a helicopter circling above; another semi-disaster at the federal courthouse on the corner? Or just a weatherman

                            Nothing but rain.
                                                            Nothing.

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