The Fourth River

Essay: “Senses of Pittsburgh”

By on March 31, 2017

This is a collaboratively written essay by Pittsburgh fifth-graders in response to “Senses of South Arm,” by 5th graders in Tasmania, Australia   By Grade 5-1, Pittsburgh Colfax Elementary   In the morning the sun stretches its arms to me.

Poem: “I survived the summer,” by Jess Feldman

By on March 24, 2017

From Issue 13 Nominated for Pushcart Prize, 2016   Can I share this happiness with you? Meat on a spit, a trashcan full of yellow rice, this Chiweenie takes a shit by its stroller. All I want is everything on

Fiction: “Seed to Full,” by Jolene McIlwain

By on February 3, 2017

Pushcart Nomination from The Fourth River, Issue 13   After you’ve felled the tree and dragged it from the site and hauled it to the mill, one of the first things you do is scale it, measure to find out

Essay: “Wisdom: A Bird,” By Kim Steutermann Rogers

By on November 18, 2016

from The Fourth River, issue 13       The oldest known wild bird in the world, an albatross, is 64 and right about now—late November—she’s probably gliding over a mutable line in the North Pacific, a transition zone where cold water

Fiction: “Veyo, Forgotten by the Mormons,” by Ryan Habermeyer

By on October 21, 2016

We were in the tall grasses creeping on finches when we seen mama run down the slope in her Sunday finest and throw herself in the creek. Papa stood there scratching at his hair like he was fixing a nest

Poem: “Beheaded Deer, The Power Lines Near Brewster Lake,” by Kate Belew

By on October 7, 2016

From The Fourth River, Issue 11   Listen to Kate Belew read “Beheaded Deer, The Power Lines Near Brewster Lake”   It was too late by the time the last sparks flew. I had already been tangled in the webs

Essay: “Something that Loves a Wall,” by Margot Anne Kelley

By on June 19, 2016

From The Fourth River, Issue 12   The boundary is that from which something begins its essential unfolding. — Heidegger Lengths of the rough, graying wood ring a small paddock that separates two lumbering, gentle horses from the rest of

Essay: “Morning Beat,” by Wendy Gist

By on March 23, 2016

  From The Fourth River Issue 10   “Nobody sees a flower really; it is so small. We haven’t time, and to see takes time –                                 like to have a friend takes time.” –Georgia O’Keeffe   North Buttery sunshine spreads

Poem: “The Spineless,” by Lois Marie Harrod

By on March 14, 2016

From The Fourth River, Issue 12   No use telling the jellyfish to stand up for herself or the footless slug to stand his ground. Most amoebae are wobbly as curdled milk and even the centipede for all his feet

Essay: “Driving the Section Line,” by Sarah K. Lenz

By on February 29, 2016

From The Fourth River, issue 12   “This is where I want you to spread my ashes,” my father says. “When I die, cremate me and dump me here.” I look to the edge of the ravine. A rotten fence