It’s the time of year when the questions are rolling in: Are you accepting submissions to your Summer Fiction issue?

The answer is yes and no. No, like in 2020 there will be no single issue dedicated to reader-submitted short stories and poetry. But yes, the paper is welcoming submissions of original fiction, drama, and poetry as it continues its year-long practice of publishing fiction on a rolling basis as space permits.

Works can be submitted by email to and should include a brief biography. The same general guidelines that have applied to past years’ fiction issues still apply: Themes relevant to the greater Princeton business community are especially appreciated; submissions from children are not encouraged.

Below, poetry from readers and poets Anne Hiltner and Carolyn Foote Edelmann.

At Lake Carnegie

By Anne Hiltner

The dry, weathered dock
stretches out into the lake,
gray like an old chalkboard
left out in the winter cold.

Far off, a thin white sail
cuts across the lagoon,
the mast tipping as it dips
to one side and swerves,

gliding up the long lagoon
on a thin, bark shell like a
canoe with two brown heads
bobbing like turtles inside.

The wind ruffles the water
as the sail rides the current,
blowing like an Aeolian god,
responding to every breath,

fluttering like a bird’s wings
or a white butterfly dancing
under the green, aery trees
shimmering in the dark water,

the slim white sail tacking
to catch the effervescent wind,
releasing me like a free spirit
from time’s mundane days.

Anne Hiltner works in educational testing for ETS; she is a member of US 1 Poets, Delaware Valley Poets, and Hamilton Writers, among several area writers’ groups. She lives in East Windsor.


By Carolyn Foote Edelmann

Triggered by Robert Macfarlane’s opening sentence to The Wild Places: “The wind was rising, so I went to the Wood.”

if I climbed a beech
would it be “...a place to think, a roost...”?
might I be able to utilize
that iron-hard, mercury-hued
severe slick trunk
— shinny up?
would there be nooks up there
groves, even, — among those light-filled
sharp-pointed, thin, ovoid leaves?
where I could listen
to leaf-whisper?
would I feel welcomed,
as though this is where
I have only always belonged?
Will I be high enough
and still enough
that no one ever
could find me?
if I could climb
the imperious beech
would I?
would I come down?

Carolyn Foote Edelmann is co-founder of Princeton’s Cool Women Poets and spent three semesters as the first member of the community admitted to Princeton University’s creative writing class. Poetry is vital to her, but preservation always takes precedence.