Author Archives: Theodora Goss

The Gray Catbird by Theodora Goss The gray catbird, says Birds of Massachusetts, is secretive: yesterday I saw it hiding behind the leaves. I could never get a photo. I stood and watched it in the sunlit forest, wondering what … Continue reading →

The Mermaid’s Lament by Theodora Goss They are there, they are still there: eyes eaten long ago, replaced by coral and therefore more beautiful, transformed. Jaws grinning as though at a fine jest. Their ribs, like the ribs of the … Continue reading →

My Ghosts by Theodora Goss Some days, I think I’ll die of loneliness here in this room. And then the ghosts appear, Depression hiding in her long black hair, Anxiety, a puppet on a string pulled by a force he … Continue reading →

The Language of Flowers by Theodora Goss I tell the truth in flowers. I open my mouth: out falls a rose, a violet, forget-me-nots, a lily, a daffodil, until my hands are full. How lovely, and yet — what have … Continue reading →

The Changeling by Theodora Goss What do you do? He wore his leather jacket to school, pulled the fire alarm, felt up one of the nuns. Detention was a time to draw rocket ships or race cars. He liked things … Continue reading →

Beauty to the Beast by Theodora Goss When I dare walk in fields, barefoot and tender, trace thorns with my finger, swallow amber, crawl into the badger’s chamber, comb lightning’s loose hair in a crashing storm, walk in a wolf’s … Continue reading →

Philomela by Theodora Goss Where did Philomela, raped and mute, find the threads to weave a tapestry, imprisoned as she was in a tower, in the forest of Thrace, you ask me. And I answer, the trees bent their branches … Continue reading →