“One More Thing,” this wonderful poem by Lesléa Newman, seemed to me to segue very well from the last guest post, “Smoking” by Laura Rodley. On first reading this poem made me think of the past. Subsequent readings made me think of the present. I know it will make you think too. Thanks again to Lesléa Newman for letting me share her work here. ONE MORE THING My mother crept downstairs at night, (I made believe I was asleep) She didn’t … [Read more...]
Angie M. Flanagan: Beginnings, Endings and the Surprises in Between
When I was a little girl, I had a recurring dream that a beautiful woman with dark hair smiled benevolently down at me. “Would you like to see your life?” She asked. “How you live, and how you die?” I can be a bit on the impatient side. I’ve always struggled with the urge to read the last page of the book first, so I let the woman take me by the hand. She led me into an ornate theater. Twin angels stood on either side of red curtains. “Just say the word,” she … [Read more...]
Guest Post: Fran Podulka “The Fitting”
The Fitting You turn, turn, turn as the seamstress pins lace onto the perfect hem of your wedding dress. You turn on command. Reflected over and over in the mirrored room you surround us. "Fits like a glove," the seamstress says, then crowns you with flowers silk and braided pearls, a froth of veil softens your wild, loose hair. Somewhere in the shop your father waits. Since you asked him to come that he should see you this way before the … [Read more...]
Guest Post: Alfred Lichtenstein “Summer Freshness” and “Prayer before Battle”
Summer Freshness The sky is like a blue jellyfish. And all around are fields, rolling meadows - Peaceful world, you great mousetrap, Would that I might finally escape from you.. O if I had wings - One plays dice. Guzzles. Chatters about future countries. Each person puts in his own two cents. The earth is a succulent Sunday roast, Nicely dunked into a sweet sun-sauce. If only there were a wind... that ripped The gentle world with iron claws. That would … [Read more...]
Guest Post: Laura Rodley “Meeting the Father”
Meeting the Father Sister Isabelle Rose has met the Father, sits swinging in a long roped swing descending from Heaven where mists rise like those over the Holyoke Bridge. She sits swinging, her body slim her hair light brown, curled, no glasses set upon her nose, happy to be held in God’s grace but not in his arms, just as she was in the convent when married to his son, Jesus Christ, swinging through the … [Read more...]
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