Thirty-First Bird Review, Summer 2010

Crane gnawed at the skin of a dead bat, sucked the bones and fur, and Tom and Huck shouted outside the door, and Crane did not know if the boys were real, beguiling him…


HEArt Online: Human Equity Through Art August 15, 2013

Inspired by Seth Eastman’s paintings, his Dakota wife Stands Sacred and Doctor Charles Eastman at Wounded Knee.


Pushcart Nomination: American Athenaeum, Front Porch Edition Spring 2013

The animals and birds danced inside the core of the Earth, scorching their feet on hot crusty rock, thirsting, chanting in the dark. They rested, and Thrasher heard the sea seep from the rim way above. He sang the song of two tiny warblers, those we call the prothonotaries today…


Oyster River Pages, Issue 6.1

I worried for William’s soul. We got to the Mississippi, and a hoard of Oak Woman’s Winnebago relations met us, dressed for ceremony. A Winnebago warrior with a scarlet-painted chin planted an engraved stick on the bank of a creek-mouth, and Oak Woman talked dead-solemn, like the `tire world depended upon my listening.

The One Above the Bottoms

Pushcart Nomination, Prick of the Spindle Magazine, Vol. 7.1, March 2013

The river this late afternoon seemed to prove Nathan right, and the pilots, log rafters and keelboat men wrong. Mid-April already, and the channel looked smooth from up at the cabin, glistening a muddy milk-brown, silvery-blue, sunny, rosy-toned…

Eden Never Heard

Wilde Literary Journal Fall 2013

He knew of a bench of shoreline upriver in Minnesota Territory, a town-site opening, Sioux Prairie, and he said he needed men to preempt and hold claims until Congress ratified a treaty that would secure the Mississippi’s west bank from Dakota Indians.

My Fancy and Fuss

Magazine of History and Fiction Issue 4 December 2019

The fog swallowed the Mississippi thick as a forge’s smoke, and silent as the slither of the serpent that led me to my fancy and fuss—Spirit Moon, Chief Rattling Wind’s daughter. One moment the river yawned before us, a trail of blue-gold sunlight calling me to the fur post I was to open one-hundred miles upriver…