by Karen Kilcup
Autumn Woods
It wasn’t until I stood
beneath the red maples and oaks
and the rustling underfoot
had stopped
that I realized
what silence was.
Phyllis Wax writes in Milwaukee on a bluff overlooking Lake Michigan. Inspired by
nature and human nature, as well as by music of all sorts, her subjects are wide-ranging,
from her old dishwasher to centipedes to egrets to family dynamics. Her poetry has
appeared in many publications, both online and in print, including Mobius: The Journal of
Social Change, Spillway, Peacock Journal, Moss Piglet, New Verse News, Jerry Jazz
Musician, Rise Up Review, Your Daily Poem. It has also been exhibited with art quilts and
weavings as part of poet/fiber artist collaborations. She can be reached at: poetwax38@gmail.com.
A New Englander with old farming roots, Karen Kilcup is the Elizabeth Rosenthal Excellence Professor of American Literature, Environmental & Sustainability Studies, and Women’s, Gender, & Sexuality Studies at UNC Greensboro. In addition to her fourteen academic books, she has published numerous scholarly and creative works in journals and anthologies. Her poem “Feathers and Wedges” won the 2022 Julia Peterkin Prize for poetry, and her forthcoming poetry collection The Art of Restoration was awarded the 2021 Winter Goose Poetry Prize. Find out more at www.karenkilcup.org.