Fredric Koeppel

Fredric Koeppel has had stories and poems published recently in The Moving Force, Right-Hand Pointing, the Iowa Review, Many Mountains Moving, Vox Poetica, Bare-Knuckle Poet and other journals. He is a former college English teacher and newspaper journalist in the fields of arts and culture. He lives in Memphis and writes the wine review blog Bigger Than Your Head. He and his wife maintain, probably with too little skill and too much passion, a pack of ten rescued dogs.

She Was A Child

The Messenger
Baltimore, May 1832
Virginia Clemm sits with Cousin Eddy on the small stoop in front of the little brick house in Baltimore, Maryland, in the Republic of the United States of America of which the president is Andrew Jackson, known as Old Hickory, slave owner and Indian killer. The street is unpaved, but a slave on the other side sweeps the dirt with a long-handled broom because his mistress says he must. A brown and white dog sleeps in the wagon ruts, and he will be run over if he doesn’t move; drovers are hauling produce to market in their rattling, trundling wagons.

Fredric Koeppel

Fredric Koeppel has had stories and poems published recently in The Moving Force, Right-Hand Pointing, the Iowa Review, Many Mountains Moving, Vox Poetica, Bare-Knuckle Poet and other journals. He is a former college English teacher and newspaper journalist in the fields of arts and culture. He lives in Memphis and writes the wine review blog Bigger Than Your Head. He and his wife maintain, probably with too little skill and too much passion, a pack of ten rescued dogs.

She Was A Child

The Messenger
Baltimore, May 1832
Virginia Clemm sits with Cousin Eddy on the small stoop in front of the little brick house in Baltimore, Maryland, in the Republic of the United States of America of which the president is Andrew Jackson, known as Old Hickory, slave owner and Indian killer. The street is unpaved, but a slave on the other side sweeps the dirt with a long-handled broom because his mistress says he must. A brown and white dog sleeps in the wagon ruts, and he will be run over if he doesn’t move; drovers are hauling produce to market in their rattling, trundling wagons.

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