Over the past two months, I’ve spent time revisiting this year’s issues, and I continue to feel amazed by and grateful for the incredible work our contributors share. Choosing which pieces to nominate for The Pushcart Prize: Best of the Small Presses proved no easy task again this year. Each read (and re-read) reminded me what a privilege it is to work on this journal and with such talented writers and artists.
As is our tradition each year, I’m sharing the opening lines of this year’s nominated pieces. I hope these glimpses inspire you to revisit not only these works but also the many outstanding contributions we’ve had the honor of publishing this year. Please join me in celebrating these writers—and enjoy rediscovering their extraordinary work.
The boy says he is an animal
whisperer. This is after he sees the deer
in the yard and his eyes
widen, and then,
“Animal Traces” by Kelly Terwilliger
from Issue Thirty-Three: Summer 2024
Put the petals in your mouth,
chew slowly. Taste the pith.
“Picture of a Lily” by C.W. Bryan
from Issue Thirty-Four: Fall 2024
we are coming of age on an island (turtle island,
some indigenous
woodlands folk
call/ed
it)
“island / ocean” by David Q. Hutcheson-Tipton
from Issue Thirty-Two: Spring 2024
Bai Juyi used to beat himself up
for not being able to rid himself
of poetry, the last attachment.
“The Samadhi of Words” by Richard Collins
from Issue Thirty-Four: Fall 2024
I once cut my father’s hair as he sat quietly
in a weathered deck chair overlooking a line
“Last Summer Sonnet” by Bridget Ramsey
from Issue Thirty-Two: Spring 2024
The Commons
is a space filled
with alphanumeric signs—
If you can read English.
“The Commons” by Sandy Feinstein
from Issue Thirty-One: Winter 2024
WILLOWS WEPT REVIEW 