Molly Fisk

memory

ipswich

Postcard from Ipswich

There’s no wifi at my Aunt Mary’s beautiful old house, so we watch the tide come in and go out again twice a day. There’s a moment of stillness when it turns, the water clearly going under the bridge in one direction, and then a pause for maybe three or four minutes, and the surface […]

yuba river

Your Own Poetry

Not every line of every poem is going to be memorable, but once in a while a line sticks in your brain and stirs things around in there. Even, sometimes, one you wrote yourself. This is from “Daybreak,” the opening poem of my last collection: The More Difficult Beauty. Published by Hip Pocket Press, Gail […]