Photo by Greta Unetich By Greta Unetich A thunderstorm rolls into Ithaca. Its thunderheads collect in the black night.My bedsheets stick to my legs; sweat beads on the breath of my pillow, the nape of my neck. I sit cross-legged on my comforter and tie my humid hair up below my window in the light… Continue reading A Short Story in Ithaca
Photo by Greta Unetich By Greta Unetich In early June, theBreeze off the lake feels like theTouch of a lover.
Photo by Greta Unetich By Greta Unetich For Taylor At the cottage, we had the same breakfast almost every morning: you had peanut butter and granola on a slice of sourdough bread so big we had to toast it by broiling it in the oven, and I had the same thing, except with bananas and… Continue reading The Cottage In November/A Haiku
Photo by Greta Unetich By Greta Unetich I was eighteen when I first saw the trees in the Finger Lakes with leaves that weren’torange, or at least this was the first time I remember seeing them this way.⁕The snow has started to fall again, laid as thick as it was last year in December;blood-orange below… Continue reading The Surface Of The Snow
Photo by Greta Unetich By Greta Unetich Your face fractured by the shadows under the stars, Under the slivers in the silver trees. The cold air touches my arms, my legs. Cold water in my hair, mist on the road back home. Your skin underwater, Where the dreams of the living live, Blue even when… Continue reading Waterfall
Photo by Greta Unetich By Greta Unetich Fingertips Soft, little distractions upon my skin. In Your Arms Truly warm, I breathe.
Photo by Greta Unetich By Greta Unetich The fields in the Finger Lakes are wide and lonely, far from people. But sometimes, something glitters in them like light on the water, like an almost-forgotten memory that is still warm to the touch like sunlight in September, a memory that is sometimes reminiscent of a distant… Continue reading Fields