Windward Review Vol 21 (2023): Myths and Hauntings

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Chloe Rodriguez Please, Don’t Remind Me of What We Had in Cuba. “But in Cuba we had” Our relics sit in the musty chestnut box, smelling of old air, faint promises of revolution and Guerlain, books of Mantillas we could finger through before Misa, mira, touch the lace, trace the flowers of home, hija, it is nothing but a velvet lined box of memory, the past hidden behind the partitions of your prayers and leaf through the fabrics of Havana, feel the heat rise and flush your face. Stop, smell the Guarapo on hope. Surely, you’ve adapted to life here now, let the casket rest, stuff it back into the drawer, remember Papi’s breath, imagine his starched Guayabera, calloused hands, and arthritic fingers placing blooms in crystal longing does nothing for the soul, except remind the heart of its emptiness, the body of its ghost limb, the vases delicately, the music fell silent, and Cuba seemed to glance at him, handsomely, el guapo and his rosas, absence turns us bitter if we let memory reside within us too long. Let it abandon the body before the haunting praying to La Virgin and St. Jude. He placed this mantilla on my head each day, when we kneeled, eyes closed can become more than just a visitor. You tell me of our lost causes, how to find grace within conflict and 12
heaven glossing over us, we waited silently to be answered. Take the mantilla, drape it over your suffering, remember how to act when tragedy bears us gifts. Please you do not need to place the paper-thin prayer veil over me, do not tie it around your neck, do not presume to know, listen for just a moment and do not even to understand what is lost remains lost, to know all we can do with time is ration blessings because beginnings need hope. 13
Page 1: Myths and Hauntings Windward Review
Page 4 and 5: Senior Executive Editor Dr. Robin C
Page 6 and 7: Roy Gomez A Wooden Castle .........
Page 8 and 9: Letter of Gratitude from the Managi
Page 10 and 11: Chloe Rodriguez My Mother Teaches M
Page 12 and 13: Chloe Rodriguez Elegy as a Caja Chi
Page 16 and 17: Samantha Caudillo Mariela A car dro
Page 18 and 19: “Luis told me he saw you with the
Page 20 and 21: Elijah X.A. Esquivel The Spines of
Page 22 and 23: Eylie Sasajima the wych elm’s lul
Page 24 and 25: Julieta Corpus Prescience There is
Page 26 and 27: finite loop of park road brought us
Page 28 and 29: to grow. Now the old landing’s na
Page 30 and 31: “Maybe,” I said. “Her clothes
Page 32 and 33: “I don’t expect you will be,”
Page 34 and 35: # We are sailing on a river of dark
Page 36 and 37: Amanda King Roommates Alone I am ev
Page 38 and 39: To make my own skin soft to the tou
Page 40 and 41: Ellianna Nejat Giant Fleas There wa
Page 42 and 43: Thomas Piekarski Birth of Mars I ye
Page 44 and 45: shades, and stores of Earth’s spl
Page 46 and 47: APPENDIX Lines 1-7, Line 71 :: [Met
Page 48 and 49: Kathleen Naderer A Forsaken City-St
Page 50 and 51: Unlike his sister, in his death he
Page 52 and 53: fires floated across its surface. B
Page 54 and 55: light blazed around him here, too,
Page 56 and 57: involved, he was the only one tryin
Page 58 and 59: so much more. We never should have
Page 60 and 61: He could barely get the words out,
Page 62 and 63: “And you know better than any wha
Page 64 and 65:
Roy Gomez A Wooden Castle A blast o
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Steve Brisendine Liberal, Kansas, w
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Steve Brisendine Kansas City Which
Page 70 and 71:
Steve Brisendine The Maybe-Ghost of
Page 72 and 73:
Emily Clemente Those Birds In those
Page 74 and 75:
Sandy Allison’s mother picked out
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crammed room in the back of the chu
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it was starting to get dark outside
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78 ___ The last time I ever saw San
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I can see her again like I am thirt
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Ace Boggess Slow Down 1. Dr. Fauci
Page 86 and 87:
Ace Boggess Invitation First in a y
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normalcy, of domesticity. I walk co
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Natasha Santana Loving He Walked Al
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Lighting lotus boats on the night o
Page 94 and 95:
Bonnie Stump an open grave i. dimly
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I am always looking at light and th
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Laurence Musgrove It’s Nothing To
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Mellow, tart, and dark, and dead, a
Page 102 and 103:
Tina Lentz-McMillan By Its Name, a
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Tina Lentz-McMillan Deal With God Y
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the sacred comes in the breath of y
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So Marshal Purcell of Texline and C
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That her mother would drive to DFW
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“I am ready,” said Mrs. Brill.
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Willie waited and waited. The séan
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Lorraine Caputo Pa’ Barquisimeto
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Lorraine Caputo Tropical Storms Whe
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Who the fuck are you? November 26th
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Alexandra Shimalla It’s the Littl
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to get done—laundry, clean shower
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ain. I lived in university housing
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11. For years, I refused to read ab
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Alyssa Liney Pruitt Disorders Depre
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Delaney McLemore Two Grams In my fa
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was no earth heavy enough to hold h
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“I had a heart attack, baby.” H
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Liesel Hamilton Dementia Zoom Call
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Brianna Sandoval The Tree’s Shado
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Janet: It was our sixth date, and w
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INT. Living Room-Evening - Three Mo
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Did you mean it? (Carrie looks at J
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Elizabeth N. Flores Mama and the Do
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We’ll clean his collection of cal
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But I did everything they told me t
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Daunte Gaiter In Loving Memory You
Page 156 and 157:
KeYanla Cleckley Stuck A few years
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The lights flickered with every sec
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It quickly became evident that we c
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ific, and he was loved and well car
Page 164 and 165:
Alena Sandoval A Mother’s Love of
Page 166 and 167:
Nikiphoros Vlastos American Sonnet
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Julieta translated Darklings, a sho
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Liam Leslie: “Great acres of vast
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Alexandra Shimalla is a freelance j
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Windward Review Vol 21 (2023): Myths and Hauntings

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