I almost met you
On a Saturday
The wind blew easterly.
There was a jar of mums
On a table near the window. 20 more words
The elms stretched themselves in indolent joy,
arching over the street that lay in green shadow
under their loose tent. 98 more words
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What is the value of poetry in such a brutal world?
You’d have to ask that about all the arts. They lift everyone up.
By Francis DeBernardo, New Ways Ministry, October 7, 2016
Catholic writer Kaya Oakes has done a wonderful service to the readers of U.S. Catholic in her… 908 more words