East Fork:

A Journal of the Arts​​

​Emilee Caudill​


The brain of America is tie-dye
Colorful. Eclectic. Eccentric.
Art flows from the veins
between the coasts
Challenging us with questions
of diversity and importance
Removing the argument
of who is right and what is wrong
Blending every shade
of every color
into one glorious PEACE of art


I am laying in bed with my mother
Her bright eyes welcome me
The picture of health
My fathers dream
I stare at her as she drifts to sleep
Silk nightgown under wool robe
An unspoken peace
A love as pure as these white sheets
From the mirror she faces
I see everything I want to be


I always smiled afterwards,
like our conversation had magical
powers that captured my attention
and stole my lips.
Talking to him sparked in me
something new something rebellious
that I desired.
I was hidden
from pain and those who brought
fear. But pitter-patter
fluttered my heart from his
voice that rattled deep, deep inside.
Then the next step of love came.
What I had been sheltered from.
The pain that comes with newness,
the kind of ache deep inside,
the sweet hurt and torture,
only a man like him could
provide, freedom bears a
price, this time it was
my innocence. Yet, when
he speaks, I