Madeleine in Church

As the Christian holy days passed, I reflected a great deal on my own desires to believe in the resurrection with steadfast, unquestioning purity. My own waters of faith are easily troubled by the ramblings of my mind and the experiences of my past. In “Madeleine in Church,” a poem by British writer Charlotte Mew…

How to Be Sad: Poetry by Risa Denenberg

How to Be Sad If you listen without language, you may hear my grandfather playing Brahms on the cello, grunting every now and then with the effort of an old man soon to die. He played for me that spring I lay sick with pneumonia. I was nine and lonely for my mothership, her planets…