Budapest 1956

by Camille Carter

Text Size

A Decrease font size. A Reset font size. A Increase font size.

This piece is part of our Winter 2023 print issue, available for purchase here.

Camille Carter

Camille Carter is a writer, poet, educator, and traveler. Her recent work appears in Poetry, The Greensboro Review, Meridian, Passages North, and elsewhere. She resides in New York and is a Ph.D. student of Comparative Literature.

View profile

Dorothy McKibben: Gatekeeper

by John Canaday

Each day a stream of new lost souls succeeds the last. I number the innumerable hosts in triplicate. My office door should read: “Through me the road unto a town of ghosts; through me the way to join an endless war; through me a path among the Lost Almosts: Abandon hope, all ye who enter

Spring 2017

Pro Deo et Patria

by Mary Beth Hines

after Edvard Munch’s “The Sun,” 1910-13 After a week of rain, the sudden, sodden sun bursts through, spurs the wet winter world into color, and I recall Munch’s famous fractal flares, violet steeping cliff-sides, emerald mosses cropping up in the thought-dead ground and that little army of blue-black backs breaking the surface of the mustardy

Summer 2024

Sonnets in Astana 4

by Mariya (Masha) Deykute

‘—in mid-step, in the yellow suspended capillaries, I Freeze; the guests have come unbidden; retreat, retreat! I trust my husband not to dash my son’s brains out, I Trust the engineer was sober; trust the bombs sleep. I check the locks, I check the locks, I check the locks. I trust my body, I trust

Spring 2022

Browse More

SUPPORT 
DIVERSE VOICES
IN LITERATURE

If you enjoy our magazine’s print and online issues and believe in our mission of promoting diverse voices, please consider donating so we can continue to publish such relevant and distinctive work here at Solstice.

Make a donation