In These Hills

tia cowger


Mrs. Jones distills moonshine behind

her shed, half-hidden by lidded weeping

branches—that’s what it looks like

anyway. Frogs croak into the staleness

of the humidity, a prayer in their deep

vibrations. Knobby limbs creaking in

darkness like empty bones as she

tightens lids. Heat has pressured even

the darkest shadows to sweat. She’ll

trade a jar for anything, as long as it looks

like a heart. Frogs die down, realizing

God will not answer.


Send the flood. Send the flood again.





Tia Cowger is a graduate of Eastern Illinois University. A poet at heart, her work has been published in Eastern’s literary journal The Vehicle, Toe Good, Gone Lawn and others.