If our dreams could edit the news (and sometimes our nightmares) these poems are how they'd wake us up to the urgency of our times.

- Betsy Sholl

coming to the end of spring / my grandmother kicks off her shoes / steps out of her faltering body.

- Betsy Sholl

Who says there's just one safe way to walk, one road properly lit, and the rest - all slippery water, unmarked?

- Betsy Sholl