Skip to main content

Audrey Bohanan


Sad Cabin

Something of immediacy holds out, Reluctant to leave, and plys a sense Of resurgence in bee balm's purple shoots Poking through around the ruins. To leave unchosen books behind On the shelf may affect one thing, But another to have left them for The [...]


Four pearls in an envelope. My mother never says what they mean to her. Someone found them, diving off the coast and left them with a desk clerk for her. Venezuela, 1936. No message. She wanted to know and stayed another year. No one came, and she p [...]

Winter Burial

She pulls her sled along the woods road to the hill where cows sleep between rocks in summer. Nothing is on her mind. Her chair pushed back from the breakfast table, milk streaks wiped away are tracks filling in behind her with a light snow. She has [...]