I’m pleased to share that I have contributed two poems, “Urn” and “Nocturne,” to d ellis phelps’s random beauty ii series at formidable woman sanctuary. Please scroll down to the end of page iii to read my little ditties and take some time to explore some of my co-contributors’ soul-fortifying testaments along the way! Upon accepting my poems for publication, d thanked me for being supportive of fws projects (as a contributor to several series so far), but please know that I believe in the uplifting energy of communal creativity that d curates at fws, and it’s my honor to participate.
nature
In-titled Poem Live in New Feathers Anthology!

My In-titled Poem (inspired by Ross Gay), “Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude,” has finally found its home among the lovely pages of New Feathers Anthology! I’m grateful to EIC Wade Fox for selecting it for publication in the winter 2025 issue. Despite this poem being my all-time record-holder (probably twice over!) for number of rejections received at 47 whoppers, it still happens to be a personal favorite, which I’m ever so pleased and proud to share with you now…
It’s Official!
We Have Seen the Corn has been published and is now available for purchase at Kelsay Books:
and Amazon Books:
What They’re Sayin’…
Preliminary words of praise for my forthcoming poetry collection, We Have Seen the Corn!
I’m so grateful to d., Candice, and Mary for gracing my book’s back cover with such wise, insightful, enthusiastic words of praise for these poems! We Have Seen the Corn will be available for order via the Kelsay Books website and Amazon soon…
From her invented “In-titled” form, to frolicking word play and elegant word choice, Ms. Harper demonstrates an uncommon command of every line and syllable in this evocative collection. Here, the poet is fully present, and the work is stunning. We Have Seen the Corn is deeply personal work: the poet reckoning with “the notion of a self / inhabited too briefly.” She asks, “why and why and why,” bringing us again and again to the “brown brink” of grief. Deftly, the poet titrates between the beauty and “unspeakable devastation” of nature: “Indigo Bunting,” cicadas mating, and “the womb’s hush” counterbalance grief and loss. Here amid the “sweet sultry folds” of an abiding love, there is exquisite tenderness, as the poet reveals herself, unabashed, shedding every husk.
~ d. ellis phelps, EIC: formidable woman sanctuary, author, of failure & faith.
Stephanie L. Harper’s We Have Seen the Corn envelops the reader in a potent diorama of its poet’s world. Harper’s grief in discovering her beloved husband’s illness, though palpable, serves not to suffocate but rather, in a highly conscious, poetically masterful manner, to elucidate the indescribable subject of unbearable pain. At this work’s crux, Harper asks, “Can I grieve?” and her unvarnished feelings unfurl before us, in response. We Have Seen the Corn is a ravishing compilation of high craft without pretention. Harper’s poetic voice possesses a poignant pulse and unforgettable reach into our inner psyche.
~ Candice Louisa Daquin, Senior Editor Indie Blu(e) Publishing and Raw Earth Ink, author, Tainted by the Same Counterfeit.
In her new poetry collection, We Have Seen the Corn, Stephanie L. Harper captures the natural world’s beauty as she uniquely sees it. The poet invites us to share in her wonderment at goats, plants, birds, and people, whose presence in her life “[burnishes] the sparse bright / sprinkle of grass (…) over into the / universe of shimmer.” Harper galvanizes our imaginations for an epic journey through her poetic world: When the Slumbering Entomophile chronicles for us a steamy cicada tryst in a lilac tree, we want to be voyeurs in this dream, too. And when we encounter Harper’s “golden orb spider,” whose “unseen murmuring, / spinning silence / (…) glistens / in the dawn’s sun-tinged tears,” we want to be there, listening.
~ Mary Sexson, author, Her Addiction, An Empty Place at the Table.
“Embodied”
I’m proud to share that Robert Okaji and I both have poems (pasted below) appearing in The Body – An anthology of poetry, an inspiring volume of body-centric poetry (available internationally via Amazon) published by Rough Diamond Poetry Journal. We’re grateful to EIC Charlotte Cosgrove for including our work in this luminous collection.





In-titled Poem Live in The Dodge Magazine

I’m so pleased to share that my In-titled Poem, “By the Moonlit Water Where the Dombiki Sing,” is now featured in the lovely eco-literary journal, The Dodge. I’m grateful to editors Edward Sambrano III and Jamie A. M. for selecting my work for publication, and for their kindness and enthusiasm, in general, throughout the publication process.
“By the Moonlit Water Where the Dombiki Sing” also appears in my chapbook, We Have Seen the Corn, forthcoming summer 2025 with Kelsay Books, which I’m shamelessly taking advantage of this opportunity to plug, once, again :).

New Chapbook Announcement!
I’m super pleased and proud to announce that I have a poetry chapbook collection forthcoming with Kelsay Books: We Have Seen the Corn will be entering production in May 2025, and will be available for purchase soon thereafter (Don’t worry, I will keep you updated!). By the way, the gorgeous graphic above is the illustration my immensely talented and generous daughter, Cameren Harper, created expressly for use as the cover of We Have Seen the Corn, for which I’m inexpressibly grateful!
This little collection has been a long time in the making and most of the individual poems have been previously published (including the title poem, below*), but what I’m most thrilled about is this opportunity to amass and share with you all these words of grief, growth, joy, and celebration into one beautiful entity dedicated to my husband, inspiration, love of my life, brilliant poet, and most extraordinary (and freaking adorable!) of human beings, the one and only, inimitable Robert Okaji (idk, you may’ve heard of him…).
I’ve been sitting on this news for quite a while, but I’ve decided that there couldn’t be a better time to make such an announcement than during our revered National Poetry Month, so the cat is officially clawing her way out of the bag!
Thank you so much for sharing this poetic moment with me! And stay tuned for more info as it comes available!
*We Have Seen the Corn
with twelve-hundred miles
of fields in our wake
I am aching
to slip among those stalks & touch
their silk-topped ears all conspiring
skyward now
to beguile the birds’ cries from the brim
of that thundercloud
burgeoning
over the Nebraska plain
let’s pull off the interstate so we can
stretch our legs for a bit
Indiana will wait
split those crows’ itinerant
congregation there & park
right alongside the unending green
I want to enter
its late-sun-streams sifting the sky motes
crimson-gold & stirring
the cicadas’ whirrs & earwigs’ scuttles in the loam
to a viscous chorus
& with my hand clasped in yours press
another lush measure
into our song’s sweet & sultry folds
~STEPHANIE L. HARPER
Letter from the Other Side of Halfway
Letter from the Other Side of Halfway
Dear Bob: In one of my former incarnations
as a starving, family-less, twenty-something
grad student, well before the advent of emails
& texting, when handwritten sentiments
on stationery were still in vogue, I certainly
sent my share of “Dear Bob Letters.”
The recipients thereof, on the whole
a far cry from being remotely “Bob-like,”
included a number of real posers, some of whom
now strut & crow on Facebook like the hoary
roosters they clearly are. Too many others are dead,
several by their own hands, even—
a stone-cold statistic I grapple with, sorting
through surreal, a posteriori details by day
& at night chasing after their egotistical ghosts
in my dreams, always with the conviction
that some message for me yet lurks
in the dry lakebeds & sunless recesses of the Nether,
a realm to which the tips of my toes & then some
are no strangers. Manning the paned threshold
between me & my secrets is only this pinkish-
translucent swath of chiffon, which I’m afraid
doesn’t leave much to the imagination,
so, consider yourself warned, Amico Mio!
Against our current backdrop of imbecilic
plutocrats, political sycophants & psychopaths
bearing assault rifles, hardly to be tempered by
the incidental, decent soul, it wouldn’t take
a discerning eye long to know me better
than I know myself, which is just about the only thing
I know anymore… In my attempts to locate myself,
I’ve often looked to nature—these days, it’s among
the imposing Sequoias we glorify here in the Northwest,
along with the cottonwoods, as haughty & fertile
as they are indiscriminate, stripping off their seed-fluff
every chance they get, which doesn’t seem to bother
the scrub jays deigning to my level for a squawk
now & then before ascending to a higher branch.
Whatever folks might say about birds of a feather,
well, after a number of stints in earnest spent
staking out the local hens—who always kept
their most tender petticoats tucked under drab
slickers, yet so brusquely exposed any biting
commentary to the cold & rain—
I’ve yet to locate my flock, so the search
has turned southeastward: Taking a tip
from the meadowlark, I veer for the high desert,
my flight path crossing the sagebrush-dotted,
volcanic earth, hoping I’ll soon look down,
just beyond those convection columns braced
against the electric blue sky, & see you
floating in a sea of ten-gallon hats.
I don’t suppose your self-claimed “exile”
looks as poetic as I’ve imagined? It’s not
without a twinge of jealousy that I seek
consolation in your brand of solitude
on the other side of that horizon line; as exile,
it would seem to me, involves the condition
of having at some point belonged somewhere,
as in, other than the field I’ve been “out
standing” on my whole life, where I’m not
exactly practiced at belonging; which is why
I feel I ought to find out what I’ve been missing.
So, I’m heading out beyond the Cascades; past
the swaggering of sage grouses in the eastern uplands;
reaching for that horizon—green seeping to red,
clouds feathering out & never further from us
than one step ahead—where you can be sure
I’ll always be no more than a step away from you
& ever your honest friend, Stephanie.
First drafted in May 2017, in the homestretch of the grueling Tupelo Press’s 30/30 Challenge I wasn’t quite sure I’d complete, “Letter from the Other Side of Halfway” was my response to Robert Okaji’s gorgeous January 2017 poem addressed to me, “Letter to Harper from Halfway to the Horizon.” Yes, it took me a while to process (and savor!) the fact that we were cultivating what seemed for all the world like the most precious, significant friendship I’d ever known, beyond anything I’d ever dared to dream of. Learning what it meant to “sculpt another morning truer than its source…” together, with the man I was beginning to realize I’d been searching for my whole life, now became my life’s imperative. He is my trajectory, my home, my beating heart, my truth, my truest love growing truer every day.
Poems Live at Samjoko Magazine!
I’m pleased and proud to share that three of my poems—“Spotted Orb Weaver,” “Sestina for a Queen: Northern Cardinal,” and “Requiem”—have been published in the Winter III issue of Samjoko Magazine, a beautiful online literary journal based in South Korea. I’m grateful to Todd Sullivan and the Samjoko poetry editors for selecting my work.
Please view on a full/computer screen, if possible. Thanks so much for reading!
Poem Live in Taos Journal of Poetry!
I’d like to express my gratitude to poet-, editor-, and human-extraordinaire Catherine Strisik for including my poem, “Message in a Bottle to Arthur Sze,” in the gorgeous new issue (issue 13) of Taos Journal of Poetry. I’m thrilled for this chance to share my poem with you, and deeply honored that it now resides amongst such gloriously earnest, inspired company…




