J. R. Valdez The sky was still a bit gray from the drizzling rain that stained the car windows with the sky’s tears, racing each other down the glass as they collected and dried at the bottom. My surroundings were dreary and provided me no joy. Why would there be a need for such weather?Continue reading “The Wonders in the Shadows”
Author Archives: tributaryjournal
Aluminum
Daniel Cohen Tap, tap, tap, comes from the ceiling. A thick cloud of dust falls into the room. Dust as ancient as angels. Tap, tap. Footsteps are the heartbeat of my existence down here. There’s footsteps with broken lamps. Footsteps that need Old Village “Tea Caddy Green” paint that we just ran out of. FootstepsContinue reading “Aluminum”
Allow Me to be a Narcissist for a Moment.
Veronica Fahn To take in my looks and my roots.My bent nose and thin brows.My frizzy hair and small elf ears. My roots have trees back in Mexico I haven’tstudied enough— my European roots invadedthe soil in my brain long ago and kept on growing. I don’t speak Spanish. I took Italian in high school.IContinue reading “Allow Me to be a Narcissist for a Moment.”
The Withdrawal Symposium
Elizabeth Albright At first, it starts soft, just an endless murmur of voices that blend into the white noise belched out by the old box fan, trailing dust worms and blowing the peppermint remnants of Bengay over the room. It grows, the shapeless din now a party. Glasses clink together and snip bits of conversationContinue reading “The Withdrawal Symposium”
A Coronation in my Room
By Olivia Hagios She remembered being helpless,Unable to move a toy soldierOn the playing boardOf the nightmares which claimed her They twisted her vision of reality,Morphing the world she drew—It seemed as soon as a battle was won,The horses charged again One night the girl decided To etch a crown into her skin, A crownContinue reading “A Coronation in my Room”
The First National Edition of The Tributary
We welcome you to the first ever national edition of The Tributary. Authors and poets from all over the country allowed us to weave together their works into an iridescent tapestry. It is one that we here at The Tributary are proud to present to you. From the forests of Vermont to the Valleys ofContinue reading “The First National Edition of The Tributary”
Tributary 2022
It is finally here! Submissions like rain mixed into a puddle, dripped into a stream, formed this year’s issue of Lycoming College’s Tributary. Rather than parse that expansive literary-sky, find your favorite (or soon-to-be-favorites) here in our collection of works. We thank you for your patronage and urge you to support our journal and futureContinue reading “Tributary 2022”
Red Summer
Sarah Lanphear There’s an etching in the southern magnolia on the corner of Fourth and Mae, a scar hidden by flowers, sticks, and leaves on a branch just low enough, just within reach. The cut buried by men who know how to hide when they need to, who know to work by night. White hoodsContinue reading “Red Summer “
Residuum
Rylee Delaney Desolation follows a path of pickle jars past teacup vistas of watercolor clarity, through rum bottle forests, empty, to one too many towels, soiled and vacant, again.
Particle
Bianca Valentin
I am
Rylee Delaney They, myself not excluded, thought: but surely I am None, not one are the “other” The hurricanes, the earthquakes, several feet from the other All lusting, a storming desire to be the “other” Together, a collective petrified, shy, shying from the other Knowing, it’s possible, impossible, to beContinue reading “I am “
The Riverwalk
Sohini Mukherjee As the sun set by the Susquehanna riverwalk, the sky took a shade of orange, lively yet soul-soothing. The hills, newly clad in emerald, ripple like the sun rays on my caramel skin, whistling as I walk. The river’s wind pushes into my brown hair, sends me into a labyrinth of my fondestContinue reading “The Riverwalk “
Nightmares
August Wampole I had a nightmare. (Not unusual, but it left me in a haze) God gave me His power, said He lost care For humanity. Left me in a daze And then he was gone. And I was alone with the world.
The Grand Tetons, Wyoming
Rylee Delaney
Who’s The Bastard Now?
Caleb Hipple 1. A Hippie Fucks My Mom, 2000 “Tune in, Turn on and Drop out” (his favorite quote on Facebook) Robbie, my absent creator, holds a breath— he imagines instead her lover’s puffed chest, quakes knowingly, blows on plump dandelions, unsheathes in her stretching garden. Hidden, a snake slides fromContinue reading “Who’s The Bastard Now? “
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