Teja Jonnalagadda We have fallen so far from where the water fell. There a wall stands now to power dishwashers, curling irons, flat screen TVs, and telephone poles. The fish no longer swim freely. Crawling up step ladders like meticulous marmosets. Flooded the valley floor, to ensure that we can always take more. We have

by Dawn Wink . . . in the bottom of a dark canyon, I stood in a shroud of voices. They spun up the canyon walls, radiating through the dusky interior. . . The voices were part of a complex language, a language that formed audible words as water tumbled over rocks, and one that