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Brigit Pegeen Kelly

The Leaving

My father said I could not do it,
but all night I picked the peaches.
The orchard was still, the canals ran steadily. 199 more words


Amber Flora Thomas

More turning me. Less your arms reaching   
around my back. You ask my ear
where I have been and my body answers,   
all over kingdom come. 13 more words


Benjamin Alire Sáenz

 Summer was here again. Summer, summer, summer. I loved and hated summers. Summers had a logic all their own and they always brought something out in me. 63 more words


As I Lay Dying

As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner was a difficult read for me, although it’s considered one of the best novels of the 20th century. In some places this book reminds me of Hemingway’s… 471 more words

Book Club

E. E. Cummings

                                                      i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant… 25 more words


Two poems of bells and hills: Aaron Fisher and John Rollin Ridge

This morning, when reading The Way of Tea by Aaron Fisher (mainly prose, interspersed with some poetry), I was struck by this particular poem he included: 758 more words


Jenny Johnson

Wasn’t I the stripe in a tiger’s eye?
The dapple in the flanks of an Appaloosa?

In daylight, how could I possibly explain:
A heart hunting after a body? 11 more words