About Stonework

Stonework is published by Houghton College, a Christian liberal arts college located in New York’s rural Genesee Valley. Stonework seeks a diverse mix of mature and emerging voices in fellowship with the evangelical tradition. Published twice a year, the journal reflects the arts community at Houghton College where excellence in music, writing, and the visual arts has long been a distinctive.

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E-mail Stonework: StoneworkJournal@gmail.com

Read Stonework

  • Issue 6
    Poetry by Paul Willis and Thom Satterlee. Fiction and interview with Lori Huth. Essay by James Wardwell, and student poets from Christian campuses.
  • Issue 5
    Poetry by Susanna Childress and Debra Rienstra. Fiction excerpt by Emilie Griffin. Art from Houghton's 2007 presidential inauguration and a forum on women writing.
  • Issue 4
    Matthew Roth--new poems. Diane Glancy--from One of Us and an interview. John Tatter-on gardens and poetry. The Landscapes of John Rhett. Stephen Woolsey--on the poetry of Jack Clemo. James Wardwell--on Herrick.
  • Issue 3
    Poetry by Julia Kasdorf, Robert Siegel and Sandra Duguid. Fiction by Tom Noyes. The portraits of Alieen Ortlip Shea. An anthology of Australian Poets
  • Issue 2
    Thom Satterlee - Poems from Burning Wycliff with an appreciation by David Perkins. Alison Gresik - new fiction and an interview. James Zoller - Poems from Living on the Floodplain.
  • Issue 1
    Luci Shaw — new poems with an appreciation by Eugene H. Peterson & Hugh Cook — new fiction and an interview

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Can You Imagine

~Sandra Duguid

Can you imagine
what good fortune
has brought you here
to this bright deli
with its Southwest décor
in Livingston, New Jersey?
Eggs blossom on your oval plate
by browned potatoes;
you are eating a bagel—You.
And there’s no reason
this isn’t
a breakfast room in Paris,
and you, Pierre Bonnard,
the painter many disdain
for his failure to include
in his glorious morning interiors
more of the sinister.
And there’s no reason
this isn’t Bailey’s Mills, New York,
and you, your grandmother,
jealous, early on, of your mother
for having more children
than she ever even knew
while she had only
one boy—your father.
Even so, you’d like to think
in some way,
when the sky hung down like a long skirt
she could still pick up and move,
she was thinking of you
with kindness
when she sent him across the snowy fields
and roads to the one-room school
with his sandwich,
and then labored to paint
morning glories up either side
of the runner on the stairs
of the big house
that’s no longer there
where trains picked up
and left off their passengers
over by The Junction.

~~~~~~

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