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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  • 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


~Sandra Duguid

Our back porch, I discover from the yard,
is caving in;
eaves troughs rust in the grass.
What defines the limits of this house?
Spirea takes over the living room;
rain attacking the neighbor’s tin roof
advances this way.
I stand on the back steps,
smell the rain, and through her screen,
the match Mother lights
to cook supper.
She comes to the door
and we talk about
Bradley’s acres of dark winter wheat, growing
farther from us
across the newly widened road.
We used to own the place next door—
my father’s, his father’s grocery,
my sister’s and brother’s early apartments;
I’ve never given it up.
An old Pepsi Cola sign
shines from the upstairs window in the barn.
We claim the heavy
peonies nodding across the line,
elegant iris we planted
rise in their yard.


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