Author Archives: Theodora Goss

The Bear’s Wife by Theodora Goss I went to the bear’s house reluctantly: my father would have a pension for his old age, my mother a pantry filled with food for winter. My brothers would go to school, my little … Continue reading →

The Marshes by Theodora Goss The marshes call, the marshes so wild, all yellow under the moon, and the small green frogs raise their heads from the slime to croak a beckoning tune. The marshes call with a sibilant voice, … Continue reading →

Why I Write Poetry by Theodora Goss If I didn’t commit this crime of putting words on paper one after the other that either do or do not rhyme, that have a surreptitious rhythm and make a kind of sense … Continue reading →

Mother Night by Theodora Goss Last night I went to the house of my mother, Night. Her house has many doors, some large, some smaller than a mouse hole. You are welcome at all of them. Her house has many … Continue reading →

The Phantom Lover by Theodora Goss The one I have loved is a shadow or the ghost of a dream, a phantom made of starlight cast on a stream, whose voice is the murmur of beeches, whose touch the wing … Continue reading →

The Fox Wife by Theodora Goss I saw you dancing in a glade alone, feet bare and dressed in nothing but a rag, your red hair like a fire around your head. I had to stand and look and keep … Continue reading →

The Sound of Rain by Theodora Goss Is there anything as beautiful as the sound of rain when you are tucked safe and warm and fed into a comfortable bed with roses on the counterpane, while through the window comes … Continue reading →