DigitalCommons@C.O.D.

Kruzel, Victoria

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 2 Spring 2022 Article 67 
Spring 5-1-2022 
Dear Rose 
Victoria Kruzel 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Kruzel, Victoria (2022) "Dear Rose," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44: No. 2, Article 67. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss2/67 
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has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
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Dear Rose
Victoria Kruzel
Dear Rose, 
your roots still live in my chest.
Waiting for the day the winter will thaw
is to live to see our Sun die.
You don’t so much as stir as I water you;
Wanting you to grow so badly I’ve drowned you in the river of my 
thoughts.
Sparkle for me, my Rose, 
for the dew of the morning and the honey that drips from my eyes 
are one in the same.
Let your perfume carry across the valley and ease my wary lungs.
Shut your eyes and lie with me, and I shall be your home.
Dance for me, my Rose, 
for I shall place you upon my mouth and my hands upon your waist.
Bloom into my touch, 
arch and sway in my wind;
Let your crimson petals flourish
and I shall dress you unto her altar.
Prick me with your thorns and watch me bleed Aphrodite’s red reign.
Wilt for me, my Rose, for I wish to see you be reborn again each year, 
every year.
Let us start anew, on land that is more bountiful than the next.
I promise this time I will not be remiss with snow coating our feet.
My Rose, you have lit a fire in me;
A warmth sunken deep encased in my veins,
until I live to see the world after our Sun dies.
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Kruzel: Dear Rose
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English

Dear Rose

Choudhury, Elora

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 2 Spring 2022 Article 60 
Spring 5-1-2022 
The Environmental Exchange 
Elora Choudhury 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Choudhury, Elora (2022) "The Environmental Exchange," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44: No. 2, Article 60. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss2/60 
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has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
The Environmental Exchange         
Elora Choudhury
A world that cries for its oceans 
A world that rages for its forests
Who listens?  
 
A man who wipes the tears for their fortune
A man who cuts the trees for humanity’s promotions
He witnesses, but he hasn’t wept yet  
 
Habitats retaliate in their rave
The world screams their emotions
What was once planted is being ripped from the roots or bent by his boots
He hears, but he’s counting his bets
 
A people who fight for life, then for vitality and value so ripe 
They forget the seeds and who they steal from 
 
The world has dry eyes
It has barren trees to grasp for comfort 
As its life sinks, everything burns
 
A planter wonders if they were smart enough to rely on the sky and ground for their flowers,
since they cannot work together
 
And why shouldn’t they?  
It will all be left to decay... 
For the ones who can’t share, are the ones who pay
Safe Together, 
Tim Arroyo
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Choudhury: The Environmental Exchange
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The Environmental Exchange

Cianciosi, Christine

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 45 
Number 1 Fall 2022 Article 1 
Fall 12-1-2022 
Front Cover - Tiles in the Sky 
Christine Cianciosi 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Cianciosi, Christine (2022) "Front Cover - Tiles in the Sky," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 45: No. 1, Article 
1. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/1 
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Cianciosi: Front Cover - Tiles in the Sky
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Front Cover - Tiles in the Sky

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 45 
Number 1 Fall 2022 Article 7 
Fall 12-1-2022 
Editorial Team 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
(2022) "Editorial Team," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 45: No. 1, Article 7. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/7 
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Editorial Team
 Editor in Chief  
 - Will Anderson
 Production Editor 
 - Star Herring
 Marketing Editor 
 - Bee Bishop
 Assistant Editors 
 - Sophia Copper 
 - Kait Harland
 - Ross LaSalle
 Faculty Advisor 
 - Adam Fotos
Editor’s Note
A great thanks to our team whose efforts are nothing short of  
inspirational. It’s truly a joy to experience the love, zeal, and 
passion you all have illustrated as editors, and as emerging cre-
atives. You have given this journal its breath of  life, making my 
first semester as Editor-In-Chief  altogether fruitful. Personally, 
I have been overwhelmed at the quality and brilliance of  the 
work we are able to showcase. My greatest appreciation for all 
our talented writers, artists, and creatives. I will always treasure 
our conversations and at times eventful debates. I’m reminded 
that even in the uncertainty of  production or of  daily life, we 
all sift through the malaise of  time. Moment by moment. Hour 
to hour.
This issue is organized on the basis of  the cycle we find ourselves 
in day to day. How our days may feel rudimentary, mundane 
and yet there is always the certainty of  noon, of  seven O’clock, 
and everything in between. How every moment may be as bor-
ing as it is beautiful. Here you will find a key illustrating the 
time of  day associated with each work. 
This issue of  PLR is dedicated to all those who wander, may 
your words and work always have a place here. 
-Editor in Chief  of  Prairie Light Review, Will Anderson
Cover: Christine Cianciosi. Tiles in the Sky. Digital Art
prairielightreview.com 
cod.edu/student_life/publications/prairie_light_review
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et al.: Editorial Team
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Editorial Team

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 45 
Number 1 Fall 2022 Article 9 
Fall 12-1-2022 
Table of Contents 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
(2022) "Table of Contents," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 45: No. 1, Article 9. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/9 
This Prefatory Note is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at 
DigitalCommons@COD. It has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of 
DigitalCommons@COD. For more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
New Orleans, Spring Break 2022 • 1
Rabbit and Robot •  6 & 7
Dawn
And Like A Sunflower, We Rise Gajanana • 8
Gajanana • 9
Shree 
Morning Chai  • 8
Liber • 12
She Lay in The Dark and Knew Everything • 13
On The News
It’s A Little Cold Here • 14
A Daughter’s Plea • 15
I yearn for
Red Madonna Speaking Truths • 16
The Vine • 17
Trees in Wonderland • 18
Making Art • 19
Skankin’ Puffin • 20
Skating, 1976 • 21
Some Things to Remember • 22
Wading in the Colombia River • 23
Violet 
To My Sister  • 24
Egg Rock Lighthouse 
Selkies, Shells          • 26
Snippets from My Autobiography • 27
I swear, I try to stop.... • 28
Rattlesnake  • 29
Make Some Noise!
To Be Safe     • 30
Taking a Break 
Thor’s Well At Sunset   • 32
Travel  •  33
Ta
bl
e 
of
 C
on
te
nt
s
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et al.: Table of Contents
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Sandhill Cranes  • 34
Bramble Bush
When I Was Not Looking  • 35
Thicket
Forest Dream  • 36
The Table  • 37
Aria  • 38
The Closeted Child
The Dysphoric Teenager   • 39
Slow Drive through Town  • 40
Route 42 Aerial  • 41
What the Crone Enjoys 
Peanut Butter Cookies, 12-’83  • 42
Funeral For My Past  • 43
Chelsea  • 44
Unfinished Symphony  • 45
Ballet Folklorico Xochitl 
Universes of  Us                     • 46
Old Man  • 47
The Margaret Todd  •  48 
Lost At Sea  • 49 
Yours Truly  • 50
White Orchid •  51
Are You Awake? • 52
Contemplating Matrimony
Brianna        • 53
A Little Romance • 54
Hector, My Boy • 55
Into the Light • 56
Blood Stained Glass, an excerpt • 57
Faith • 60  
San Francisco, Connections 
Digital Fashion Rainforest Korean Hanbok Dresses • 61 
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The Prairie Light Review, Vol. 45, No. 1 [2022], Art. 9
https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/9
Doubled Over at Bus Stop 
Bitter Thoughts                  • 62
Acquiesce  • 63
It’ll Be Okay 
Love Full of  Loving  • 64
Queen Luna •  66
Weight of  the World
Caller ID   • 67
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Joe Herrmann. Rabbit and Robot. Digital  Illustration
You Write and Let Me Cry 
Philae Island Boatman, Egypt • 69
Pure Form (PUFO) • 70
Eve’s Last Message • 71
Lonesome • 72
Silent Twilight • 73
Sky Full of  Fireflies • 74
Sunday’s Best • 75
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The Prairie Light Review, Vol. 45, No. 1 [2022], Art. 9
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Mukhtar, Khalid

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 45 
Number 1 Fall 2022 Article 15 
Fall 12-1-2022 
Morning Chai 
Khalid Mukhtar 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Mukhtar, Khalid (2022) "Morning Chai," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 45: No. 1, Article 15. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/15 
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has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Morning Chai
Khalid Mukhtar
My earliest memory of  it goes back to my boyhood days:
a porcelain cup of  the steaming liquid 
sitting on a saucer with two Marie tea biscuits
carried into my grandfather’s presence.
He lowered his paper momentarily
to survey the beverage and gauge
its temperature with the thermometer
in his eye.
Or my uncle - my favorite uncle - who
stopped by every morning. 
He always had a glint in his eye.
He sat on the large swing
under the bougainvillea vines, the sun
mottling his plaid eighties button-down with its golden drops.
He didn’t care for cookies
just a hot cup capable of  raising enough fog 
Megha Jain. Shree. 
Oil on Canvas
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Mukhtar: Morning Chai
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to temper the tirade of  his sister - my mother - aimed at all things 
mundane
that tested the patience of  a mother of  three
keeping house for a sailor
away at sea.
He held the paper folded over this way and that so that 
Only the column he read was visible.
It took all of  his left hand.
In his right was the cup with – is there a word for the loopy little
handle on it – jammed between the flesh of  his pointer
and the knuckle of  his middle finger
while an interrupted cigarette dangled 
from the space between another pair of  digits, its ash 
grown a full inch, as gray and brittle
as life itself.
I recall the day laborer who showed up to repair a broken curb
sitting on his haunches upon the rubble he was due to replace 
with saplings,
his multi-patterned lungi pulled around his legs in a show 
of  modesty.
Like my uncle, he slurped the hot liquid from his cup, the morning air
thick with melting dew
and singing birds 
and the nonstop blare of  traffic
that overcame the long driveway
all adding to the flirtatious side glances he shot
at the young servant girl 
wolfing down her breakfast 
off  to the side 
around the back of  the house. 
She had her cup too. 
She gulped down the hotness
rapidly.
Chai.
From the same pot of  water.
The same tea leaves
The same milk.
Sipped. 
Slurped.
Off  to work.
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The Prairie Light Review, Vol. 45, No. 1 [2022], Art. 15
https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/15


Morning Chai

McBride, Tess

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 45 
Number 1 Fall 2022 Article 17 
Fall 12-1-2022 
She Lay in The Dark and Knew Everything 
Tess McBride 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
McBride, Tess (2022) "She Lay in The Dark and Knew Everything," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 45: No. 1, 
Article 17. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/17 
This Artwork is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It 
has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Tess McBride. She Lay in The Dark and Knew Everything. Mixed Media
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McBride: She Lay in The Dark and Knew Everything
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She Lay in The Dark and Knew Everything

Harland, Kait

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 45 
Number 1 Fall 2022 Article 31 
Fall 12-1-2022 
To My Sister 
Kait Harland 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Harland, Kait (2022) "To My Sister," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 45: No. 1, Article 31. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/31 
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has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Linnea Sardina 
Violet
Digital photograph
To My Sister
Kait Harland
When you say, “She’s my little sister,” people assume a lot of  things.
It depends on the person, what they assume, but they all assume just 
the same. Some think of  their own little sister, who they see mostly 
as a nuisance, and they’ll assume you feel the same way about yours. 
Some think of  their friend’s kid sister, who’s always getting in the way, 
and they’ll think, “man, I’m glad I don’t have one of  those.” Others 
are more benevolent, assuming that you love your little sister, but only 
because she’s family, and you’re obligated to love your family, right?
So maybe instead, I should say, “She’s my best friend.”
Because when you say “best friend,” people realize that you’re talking 
about the person who’s seen you at your darkest and said “I love you” 
anyway. They realize that you’re talking about the person you grew 
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Harland: To My Sister
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up with, played dolls with, talked about boys with, suffered through 
puberty with. When you say “best friend,” people don’t hear nuisance, 
they hear confidante and beloved. They understand that your love for 
that person is in no way obligatory, but real and true and strong.
But maybe that’s not right either.
Because if  you think about it, a best friend can fall away. Time and 
distance can worm their way in between you, and the next thing you 
know you haven’t spoken to or seen them in weeks or months or years, 
and you wonder, do they remember me? Your best friend as a child can 
be the girl you sit with at lunch, and then you graduate from elemen-
tary school and never see each other again. Your best friend in high 
school can be your favorite person in the universe, and then you go 
to different colleges and move to different states, and just like that– 
you don’t know her anymore, but you wonder if  she remembers your 
birthday, because you remember hers. You can lose your best friend in 
a way that you can never lose your sister.
So if  she’s not my little sister and she’s not my best friend, then what 
is she?
The flame to my candle? The pages to my book? The rain to my gar-
den? How do I describe the person who’s never turned away from my 
hot-headed words, my immature cold shoulder, my worst and most 
destructive self? How do I tell people, “She’s the one who brought me 
cheese toast to apologize even when I was in the wrong;” “She’s the 
one who made me a blanket fort and brought me ramen when I had 
the flu;” “She’s the one who wrote silly stories and gave them to me as 
birthday gifts when we were both too young to afford anything less;” 
How do I say that I would not only die, but kill for her?
I think the right word must be soulmate.
Not in the made-up, romantic sense of  the word, but in its purest, 
most beautiful form: someone you’re meant to be with. Your other 
half, your missing piece, your truest love. That is what I mean when I 
say, “She’s my little sister.” I mean that she holds me together, com-
pletes me, makes everything okay. She’s full of  hugs, full of  joy, full of  
life, full of  everything I am not and everything I need to survive. She 
is my soulmate; she is everything.
So, to my little sister, to my best friend, to my soulmate: I love you. 
Thank you for loving me better.
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The Prairie Light Review, Vol. 45, No. 1 [2022], Art. 31
https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/31


To My Sister

Morris, Wilda

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 45 
Number 1 Fall 2022 Article 51 
Fall 12-1-2022 
Slow Drive through Town 
Wilda Morris 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Morris, Wilda (2022) "Slow Drive through Town," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 45: No. 1, Article 51. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/51 
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has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Slow Drive through Town
In memory of  Joan Penrod-Brown
Wilda Morris
Headlights on, we follow down tree-lined 
streets past trim cottages on green lawns 
where the scent of  warming earth rises;
past children dashing across the grass.  
I hear a boy cry You’re it! as another falls 
laughing to the damp earth at his touch.  
In the next block, a man kneels,
silver hair messed by spring breezes,
digging dirt, preparing to plant 
a cherry tree from which he won’t eat.
We turn onto the highway lined
with gas stations, shops, and restaurants 
where people study lunch menus.
I watch a woman carry her basket
into the laundromat, see in my head
your dress of  bright red, black buttons 
rounder than stones, the useless tag saying 
dry clean only. We drive through stone gates.  
One early robin chirps a quiet welcome
amid flags and flowers, crosses and angels.
Adam Romanowicz.  Route 42 Aerial (at right). Digital photograph
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Morris: Slow Drive through Town
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Slow Drive through Town

Makowski, Ray

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 45 
Number 1 Fall 2022 Article 54 
Fall 12-1-2022 
Peanut Butter Cookies, 12-'83 
Ray Makowski 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Makowski, Ray (2022) "Peanut Butter Cookies, 12-'83," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 45: No. 1, Article 54. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/54 
This Selection is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It 
has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Madeleine Church. What the Crone Enjoys. Acrylic on Canvas
Peanut Butter Cookies, 12-’83
Ray Makowski
There is magic in
an unspoken “I love you”
of  yellowed notecard recipes
copied over
and newspaper-clipping cobbler
carefully preserved
“may you share this with your loved ones,
even in a time when my name is forgotten.”
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Makowski: Peanut Butter Cookies, 12-'83
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Dear Rose

The Environmental Exchange

Front Cover - Tiles in the Sky

Editorial Team

Table of Contents

Morning Chai

She Lay in The Dark and Knew Everything

To My Sister

Slow Drive through Town

Peanut Butter Cookies, 12-\u2783

7,467

11,908