DigitalCommons@C.O.D.

Molina, Kendall

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 1 Fall 2021 Article 8 
Fall 12-1-2021 
Jellyfish in Three 
Kendall Molina 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Molina, Kendall (2021) "Jellyfish in Three," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44 : No. 1 , Article 8. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/8 
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more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
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Molina: Jellyfish in Three
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English

Jellyfish in Three

English, Carlene

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 1 Fall 2021 Article 10 
Fall 12-1-2021 
Ceramic Skin 
Carlene English 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
English, Carlene (2021) "Ceramic Skin," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44 : No. 1 , Article 10. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/10 
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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. 
Ceramic Skin             Carlene English
Stubborn muck sits patiently upon my sheeted table. Pressing 
my willing fingers firmly into its body, I direct the malleable, 
amorphous substance into structured forms and molds.
Nothing compares to the way earthy clay melts into my eager 
palms, begging to be perfected. As effortless as butter, the once 
indefinite blob takes on a shape as solid as concrete. I’ll spend hours 
caring for her fragile frame and in return she expresses gratitude, 
standing tall and unyielding.
After days of manual labor, skin cracked and parched, my 
masterpiece will call out to me, awaiting the next step. Her finished 
grooves and curves satisfy me because she stands proud of her 
imperfections, unapologetic. Raised sturdy and resilient, I know 
that she’ll survive the intense confrontation of the heated kiln and 
emerge imperishable as ever.
  
However, a hint of doubt gently disturbs my mind, the same way 
an adoring parent feels watching on the sidelines as their child 
packs up their belongings to leave. I desperately want to keep her 
here forever, but I know that is not what’s best for her.
I dream about the dust of ceramic fragments because my creations 
are portions of myself I want to release into this world. Each step of 
the process is parallel to the transitions in life we must overcome, 
transforming into the best versions of ourselves. We are all molded 
by our surroundings, admired by those who love us, and through 
it all, we emerge from the consuming fire victorious, for we have 
survived the worst and arisen stronger.
      
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English: Ceramic Skin
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Ceramic Skin

White, Kimberly F.

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 1 Fall 2021 Article 16 
Fall 12-1-2021 
Everything Is Beautiful 
Kimberly F. White 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
White, Kimberly F. (2021) "Everything Is Beautiful," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44 : No. 1 , Article 16. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/16 
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. 
Everything is Beautiful
Everything is beautiful.
Bathing in a sea of stars,
I float like a balloon
Tethered to the earth by
Just a fragile string of gravity. 
I reach out to eternity,
Trace patterns in the sky ...
Stories told across millenia. 
I’m traveling through time. 
I close my eyes and slowly sink,
The air around me, in me, through me, 
Is humming in crystalline harmony 
Two hundred voices strong. 
And if you close your eyes,
A river, a silent and beautiful current,
Fills you from within …
And I expand, become two-hundredfold. 
You kiss me for the first time.
In it, I feel the first and last 
and every kiss between.
My first imperfect love.
For just one perfect moment,
Nothing hurts
And everything is beautiful.
I reach out to accept the humble spoon,
The unassuming plastic 
Now a momentary chalice.
Transubstantiation. 
I taste its precious contents,
Close my eyes in sheer euphoria.
One hundred years of craftsmanship;
Each dances in its turn across my tongue.
The sweet, the sour, oak and juniper.
I gladly pay whatever price
To worship at this temple once again.
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White: Everything Is Beautiful
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Everything is Beautiful
Everything is beautiful.
Bathing in a sea of stars,
I float like a balloon
Tethered to the earth by
Just a fragile string of gravity. 
I reach out to eternity,
Trace patterns in the sky ...
Stories told across millenia. 
I’m traveling through time. 
I close my eyes and slowly sink,
The air around me, in me, through me, 
Is humming in crystalline harmony 
Two hundred voices strong. 
And if you close your eyes,
A river, a silent and beautiful current,
Fills you from within …
And I expand, become two-hundredfold. 
You kiss me for the first time.
In it, I feel the first and last 
and every kiss between.
My first imperfect love.
For just one perfect moment,
Nothing hurts
And everything is beautiful.
I reach out to accept the humble spoon,
The unassuming plastic 
Now a momentary chalice.
Transubstantiation. 
I taste its precious contents,
Close my eyes in sheer euphoria.
One hundred years of craftsmanship;
Each dances in its turn across my tongue.
The sweet, the sour, oak and juniper.
I gladly pay whatever price
To worship at this temple once again.
 Quidditch Generation. Jewelry. Karlette Murray
A bird freed from her cage, I fly
Above hot summer sand,
Splash landing in the glittering lake.
Hot and cold, wet and dry,
Noisy … and quiet.
I am the summer sun,
The gentle breeze,
The waves unfurling as they kiss the shore.
And nothing hurts. 
    - Kimberly F. White
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The Prairie Light Review, Vol. 44, No. 1 [2021], Art. 16
https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/16


Everything Is Beautiful

Bressler, MJ

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 1 Fall 2021 Article 19 
Fall 12-1-2021 
Fowl Play 
MJ Bressler 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Bressler, MJ (2021) "Fowl Play," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44 : No. 1 , Article 19. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/19 
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. 
FOWL PLAY            MJ Bressler
The holidays are upon us, and I’ve been summoned to the kitchen 
for a lesson in preparation for the big dinner.
“Get your hand in there!” my mother directs in her authoritative 
voice. “Come on, reach in and pull it out. It’s not going to bite you!”
It’s nineteen forty-two, and Don McNeil’s Breakfast Club has just 
ended on the radio in our living room. Mother hurries to turn it off 
and returns quickly to take up where she’s left off with me.
The apron around her middle is splashed with droplets of blood as 
she folds her hands around the material to keep from interfering 
with the task she’s determined will be mine today. She believes it’s 
her duty to teach me, and when she’s made up her mind, nothing 
will change it.  I, of course, am well aware of this. However, I never 
let “her way” go unchallenged.
Gingerly, I reach my hand out to touch the purplish, goose-bumped, 
cold movable skin of the dead bird in the sink. I shudder, a chill 
climbing up my neck. 
“Don’t be such a sissy!” she intimidates, name-calling being one of 
her weapons.
I whine, “Why do I have to do this?”
“Because you have to learn sometime. I won’t be here forever to do 
it for you,” she replies in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.
I am expected to reach in and pull out the innards from this dead 
creature. I shiver at the anticipation of performing this maneuver 
and rebel in my most award-winning, Bette Davis imitation.
First, I cry!
Then I gag!
Finally, I scream! Stamping my feet in defiance.
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Bressler: Fowl Play
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But I place my hand into the mysterious cavity where the slippery, 
cold organs evade my small ten-year-old hand when I try to grasp 
them. Repulsed, I pull my hand back out, and nearly lose my 
breakfast as strands of bloody flesh cling to my fingers.
“That’s nothing,” my mother says. “Reach back in and get the 
gizzard. There’s a liver and heart in there too.”
“But they’re slippery,” I answer, half crying, half whining. None of 
this, of course, persuades her to excuse me.
I really should know by now that any defiance on my part only 
makes her more determined and angry.
“Now!” she raises her voice as her hand grasps the back of my 
neck. She means business and my obstreperous behavior had better 
end, for she’s losing patience. Though I try, I can’t win this battle of 
wills, so I had better find the inner resources to do this despicable 
job and get it done.
I grit my teeth and close my eyes. Tentatively reaching into the 
turkey’s cavity, I grab the slippery organs and withdraw my hand 
with such force they fall onto the floor.
The gizzard hits Mother’s leg and drops on the top of her shoe. The 
liver slides under the stove, while the heart bounces twice, before 
lying inert upon the braided rug by the sink.
Despite the fear I feel at this mishap, a laugh begins its journey from 
the depth of my gut and explodes from my mouth with such force 
that saliva sprays my mother’s back. Bent to remove the gizzard 
from her shoe, she suddenly straightens up and glares at me. 
Except the glare cannot quite establish itself, because the crinkles at 
the corners of her eyes erase its potency. Her face contorts, trying 
to maintain the “no-nonsense” demeanor she had previously 
established. The laughter comes in spite of her effort to contain it. 
She succumbs.
We both stand there laughing, she with her legs crossed and me 
with bloody hands, unable to wipe away the tears that stream 
down my cheeks in grateful relief.
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The Prairie Light Review, Vol. 44, No. 1 [2021], Art. 19
https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/19


Fowl Play

Dillon, M.J.

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 1 Fall 2021 Article 21 
Fall 12-1-2021 
A Mask of Stitches 
M.J. Dillon 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Dillon, M.J. (2021) "A Mask of Stitches," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44 : No. 1 , Article 21. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/21 
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. 
A Mask of Stitches
Curse the mask that makes me ideal.
Keeping me imprisoned in my own mind,
As it frames my eyes and reveals
Scars that will never heal.
A shackle tightens around my heart as it binds.
Curse the mask that makes me fear
My own abnormalities that give me nerves of steel.
My shield of armor unwinds
As it frames my eyes and conceals 
Stitches that were sewn to appeal
To those who define the designs.
Curse the mask that makes me real
Because I’m sick of this whole ordeal.
When encasing me in its thorny vines
It frames my eyes as it yields
Hatred and sadness in which it wields.
Never to the mask will I resign.
So curse the mask that fills me with zeal.
As it frames my eyes with lies.
    - M.J. Dillon
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Dillon: A Mask of Stitches
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A Mask of Stitches

Kreger, Jack

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 1 Fall 2021 Article 26 
Fall 12-1-2021 
Gathering Storm 
Jack Kreger 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Kreger, Jack (2021) "Gathering Storm," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44 : No. 1 , Article 26. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/26 
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 
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Kreger: Gathering Storm
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Gathering Storm

Trestrail, Susan

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 1 Fall 2021 Article 43 
Fall 11-1-2021 
Becoming 
Susan Trestrail 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Trestrail, Susan (2021) "Becoming," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44 : No. 1 , Article 43. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/43 
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. 
Night-driving
the sleeping night-light of the city,
crisped and tinkled on the sea
and folded over Dublin
like currency forgotten
in a pocket in the laundry.
they put out palm trees 
here – I don’t know why – 
to make the beach 
feel beachy, I guess,
or perhaps
to be cruel to foliage.
Becoming. Photography. Susan Trestrail
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Trestrail: Becoming
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Becoming

Yearman, Keith

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 1 Fall 2021 Article 49 
Fall 12-1-2021 
Trumpeter on State 
Keith Yearman 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Yearman, Keith (2021) "Trumpeter on State," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44 : No. 1 , Article 49. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/49 
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. 
1
Yearman: Trumpeter on State
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Trumpeter on State

Knott, Judy

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 1 Fall 2021 Article 51 
Fall 12-1-2021 
Race for the Mind 
Judy Knott 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Knott, Judy (2021) "Race for the Mind," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44 : No. 1 , Article 51. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/51 
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. 
Race for the Mind
Sorrow looks back, worry looks around, faith looks up.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
Her fingers unknowingly rake thick Arizona
sunset hair. Forcing knots, release of tangled fists.
Heavy-lidded from night deprived of dreams. 
Subconscious swollen with yesterday’s ghosts.
Dissonance aches solution and final rest.
Anxiety sets agitated pace on
deep ruts of intimate track. In frantic pursuit
of refuge for shadows of
weighted worry and spirits of unrest.
Lap after lap, section after section, 
every seat taken.
It’s standing room only.
 A tumultuous crowd of
vagrant, familiar haunts and wrenching concerns
in the audience today. 
The checkered flag drops and they’re off.
We have Anxiety desperate to win and in the lead, 
Chronic Impatience behind at close-to-crash second
and Weary Frustration lagging at distant third.
     - Judy Knott
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Knott: Race for the Mind
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Race for the Mind

Maniar, Jigna

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 1 Fall 2021 Article 57 
Fall 12-1-2021 
City Andalusia 
Jigna Maniar 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Maniar, Jigna (2021) "City Andalusia," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44 : No. 1 , Article 57. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/57 
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. 
City Andalusia. Photography.  Jigna Maniar
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Maniar: City Andalusia
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