Issue 1: Autumn
Cover art by Mighty Marmot Art © 2022
Editor’s Note
Welcome to Heimat Review. Autumn is, as life is, a collection of the happy and sad, joy and sorrow. Reflection.
The most frequent word in this issue? Back, followed by know, right, time, one, and says. Autumn is a time of reflection, of looking back. We remind ourselves what we know is true, is right. We also feel, as we always do, that we never have enough time. We shift through moments one-by-one and reflect on what they have to say to us and what we can say in response.
Issue One begins by reminding us of our roots, as Courtney L. Boudreau’s poem says, to “please not forget where you came from.” Many of these pieces do just that, as in the section The Homes that Built Us. Others consider the present we live in, finding a thread of hope in Courtney LeBlanc’s line, “But the other side of grief is love.” And, still others look forward, such as Angela Acosta’s declaration: “I will create as many homages as I can.” Kyla Houbolt’s poem “On a Train” provides a welcome rest and quiet joy that moves to What We All Share. These pieces all show the emotions and experiences that, as Kenneth Pobo writes, “lifted me,/ one leaf at a time… giving me a fresh look/ at where I came from.” We end by returning to the stories that built us, shaped us, and we are asked to find gratitude for what remains.
We hope you enjoy this issue as much as we do. Thanks for reading.
Hannah Cole Orsag
Editor-in-Chief
The most frequent word in this issue? Back, followed by know, right, time, one, and says. Autumn is a time of reflection, of looking back. We remind ourselves what we know is true, is right. We also feel, as we always do, that we never have enough time. We shift through moments one-by-one and reflect on what they have to say to us and what we can say in response.
Issue One begins by reminding us of our roots, as Courtney L. Boudreau’s poem says, to “please not forget where you came from.” Many of these pieces do just that, as in the section The Homes that Built Us. Others consider the present we live in, finding a thread of hope in Courtney LeBlanc’s line, “But the other side of grief is love.” And, still others look forward, such as Angela Acosta’s declaration: “I will create as many homages as I can.” Kyla Houbolt’s poem “On a Train” provides a welcome rest and quiet joy that moves to What We All Share. These pieces all show the emotions and experiences that, as Kenneth Pobo writes, “lifted me,/ one leaf at a time… giving me a fresh look/ at where I came from.” We end by returning to the stories that built us, shaped us, and we are asked to find gratitude for what remains.
We hope you enjoy this issue as much as we do. Thanks for reading.
Hannah Cole Orsag
Editor-in-Chief
Our Roots
Know Your Bones by Courtney L. Boudreau // Poetry
The Homes that Built Us
Recalling the Narrow Way by Diane Elayne Dees // Poetry
What You Save on the Way Out of a Burning House by Joseph Kerschbaum // Poetry
Stark County, Ohio by Maud Lavin // Creative Nonfiction
the poem where I am lit on fire and hauled up high in the air for all of Negaunee to see by Ron Riekki // Poetry
What You Save on the Way Out of a Burning House by Joseph Kerschbaum // Poetry
Stark County, Ohio by Maud Lavin // Creative Nonfiction
the poem where I am lit on fire and hauled up high in the air for all of Negaunee to see by Ron Riekki // Poetry
The World We Inhabit...
Odessa by Ian Ledward // Poetry
From My Window by Kyla Houbolt // Poetry
February/Estoy Aquí by Gustavo Hernandez // Poetry
Home Repair by Ace Boggess // Poetry
Knowing what is true can be foreign by Lynn Finger // Poetry
From My Window by Kyla Houbolt // Poetry
February/Estoy Aquí by Gustavo Hernandez // Poetry
Home Repair by Ace Boggess // Poetry
Knowing what is true can be foreign by Lynn Finger // Poetry
...Which Inhabits Us
Night Swimmer by Elizabeth Obermeyer // Fiction
Driving with Grandpa by Kelly Burdick // Poetry
Crossing the Limen by Dawn Tasaka Steffler // Creative Nonfiction
Harbor by Peggy Hammond // Poetry
The Plains Speak Grief by Courtney LeBlanc // Poetry
Driving with Grandpa by Kelly Burdick // Poetry
Crossing the Limen by Dawn Tasaka Steffler // Creative Nonfiction
Harbor by Peggy Hammond // Poetry
The Plains Speak Grief by Courtney LeBlanc // Poetry
Moving Forward While Looking Behind
The Day Before (a checklist) by Sonia Nicholson // Poetry
Donations by Donna Huneke // Fiction
Homage to My Literary Foremothers by Angela Acosta // Creative Nonfiction
Donations by Donna Huneke // Fiction
Homage to My Literary Foremothers by Angela Acosta // Creative Nonfiction
Interlude
On a Train by Kyla Houbolt // Poetry
What We All Share
Forever to Rosenheit by Anna K Young // Fiction
Ghost Story by Joseph Kerschbaum // Poetry
An Obit by Bob Gielow // Fiction
The Happiness Project by Will Musgrove // Fiction
Playing Hooky by Will Musgrove // Fiction
Joyce Kilmer’s “Trees” by Kenneth Pobo // Poetry
Ghost Story by Joseph Kerschbaum // Poetry
An Obit by Bob Gielow // Fiction
The Happiness Project by Will Musgrove // Fiction
Playing Hooky by Will Musgrove // Fiction
Joyce Kilmer’s “Trees” by Kenneth Pobo // Poetry
What Remains
|
This issue is dedicated to my mom, Kelly Cole. For as long as I remember, she’s wanted to paint. But for many reasons, she never really had the chance. Now, years later, she’s taking the opportunity to realize those dreams to create art – even when she’s sometimes scared of the outcome. My mom put many pieces of my artwork and poems on the fridge and around the house, not because I asked her to, but because she wanted me to be proud of what I created. My mom has never sought recognition for her own work, even when she’s sorely deserving of it. I’m so proud to put her work up here, on Heimat’s first kitchen fridge. I’m so proud of what she’s created. I hope she is too. Thank you, Mom, for believing in me. This first issue is dedicated to you.
|
Artwork by Kelly Cole
|