Poetry: Church on the Hill

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| By Nellie Mooney | This little wooden church built on a hill it was a man’s dream, but it was God’s will. it came about many years ago The slaves had a dream But no place to go. They …

Posted in January 2017 | Tagged , , | Comments Off on Poetry: Church on the Hill

Poetry: Empty

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| By Julia Nunnally Duncan | The upstairs corner where my daughter sat in her rocking chair, reading or doing her homework, is bare since she is not there.

Posted in December 2016 | Tagged , | Comments Off on Poetry: Empty

Poetry: Skeletons and Boundaries

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| By Amber Norris | My closet doors serve an important function. Behind them, each item of clothing represents a part of my life.

Posted in December 2016 | Tagged , | Comments Off on Poetry: Skeletons and Boundaries

Poetry: “Garlic Moons”

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| By Teegan C | Summer begins with lettuce seeds strewn:          hopeful       bent around a belly. ~ Later, when the persimmon tree has grown heavy,    has dropped her hot coals to smolder; When the stones have been spit, stepped on …

Posted in November 2016 | Tagged , , | Comments Off on Poetry: “Garlic Moons”

Poetry: “Abundance”

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| By Martha O. Adams | This unique dawn breaks into tangerine peels scattered on night’s indigo platter;

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Poetry: “Lexington Ave. 8/30/16”

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| By Mary Stewart | Belching buses, engines gasping surfing rhythms of combustion Fire engines crashing cymbals

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Poetry: “Giving Thanks”

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| By Martha O. Adams | What is given in a ten second pause before the launch of fork and knife

Posted in November 2016 | Tagged , , | Comments Off on Poetry: “Giving Thanks”

My Love Affair With Greek Food

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| By Janis Gingermountain | My life has been filled to the brim with food-related experiences from visits around the globe. Three of these are tastes of Greek life, culture, and most of all, food.

Posted in November 2016 | Tagged , , , | Comments Off on My Love Affair With Greek Food

Poetry: The Great Kisser

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| By Janis Gingermountain | Forgotten at Forgotten Animal Shelter I had a way to make you not forget. Six-foot standing high jumps are my gig. I like it up there in thin air.

Posted in September 2016 | Tagged , , | Comments Off on Poetry: The Great Kisser

Poetry: The Hero

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| By Clark Kimball | The Hero overhears his own true tale but does not recall it.

Posted in June 2016 | Tagged , | Comments Off on Poetry: The Hero

Poetry: “I Should Have Read Poetry to Him”

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| By Julia Nunnally Duncan | I should have read poetry to him those summer evenings when we sat on the front porch of Autumn Care, our visit filled with silence

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Poetry: A Mother’s Night

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| By Diana DeFerrari |   A mother’s night is not her own. Whether her child is fully grown, or a glint in her father’s eye.

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Poetry: My Mother’s Grave on Dickenson Mountain

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| By Lynn Slasor | Her body lies in state, the state of my heart which carries her on into the next century, the one she did not inhabit except in my heart.

Posted in February 2016 | Tagged , | Comments Off on Poetry: My Mother’s Grave on Dickenson Mountain

Three Poems

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| By Glenis Redmond | Rachel Cunningham May the works I’ve done speak for me. — Keith Johnson & The Spiritual Voices Great-Grandma presses her memory down, Every thang lived, chile ain’t written.

Posted in February 2016 | Tagged , | Comments Off on Three Poems