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Poetry Winter 2014    fiction    all issues

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Debbra Palmer
Bake Sale
& other poems

Ann V. DeVilbiss
Far Away, Like a Mirror
& other poems

Michael Fleming
On the Bus
& other poems

Harold Schumacher
Dying To Say It
& other poems

Heather Erin Herbert
Georgia’s Advent
& other poems

Sharron Singleton
Sonnet for Small Rip-Rap
& other poems

Bryce Emley
College Beer
& other poems

Harry Bauld
On a Napkin
& other poems

George Mathon
Do You See Me Waving?
& other poems

Mariana Weisler
Soft Soap and Wishful Thinking
& other poems

Michael Kramer
Nighthawks, Kaua’i
& other poems

Jill Murphy
Migration
& other poems

Cassandra Sanborn
Remnants
& other poems

Kendall Grant
Winter Love Note
& other poems

Donna French McArdle
White Blossoms at Night
& other poems

Tom Freeman
On Foot, Joliet, Illinois
& other poems

George Longenecker
Nest
& other poems

Kimberly Sailor
The Bitter Daughter
& other poems

Rebecca Irene
Woodpecker
& other poems

Savannah Grant
And Not As Shame
& other poems

Michael Hugh Lythgoe
Titian Left No Paper Trail
& other poems

Martin Conte
We’re Not There
& other poems

A. Sgroi
Sore Soles
& other poems

Miguel Coronado
Body-Poem
& other poems

Franklin Zawacki
Experience Before Memory
& other poems

Tracy Pitts
Stroke
& other poems

Rachel A. Girty
Collapse
& other poems

Ryan Flores
Language Without Lies
& other poems

Margie Curcio
Gravity
& other poems

Stephanie L. Harper
Painted Chickens
& other poems

Nicholas Petrone
Running Out of Space
& other poems

Danielle C. Robinson
A Taste of Family Business
& other poems

Meghan Kemp-Gee
A Rhyme Scheme
& other poems

Tania Brown
On Weeknights
& other poems

James Ph. Kotsybar
Unmeasured
& other poems

Matthew Scampoli
Paddle Ball
& other poems

Jamie Ross
Not Exactly
& other poems


Kendall Grant

Winter Love Note

I tromped a snowshoe love note

in a mountain meadow.


The note, as imperfect as I am,

connected from no beginning to no end

and crossed a rabbit’s trail.


It will melt and run by our house

in the river that connects us to these mountains.


The molecules will separate,

but you’ll notice them bumping over the trout.


And in a waterfall,

you may hear what I made the snowshoes say.



A Rare Congregational Member

I like an aspen grove below pine line

on the morning side of a small mountain

where wild clematis seeks the sun early

then folds purple blossom in solemn prayer.


Eyes of the forest, lost-limb quakey scars,

witness to God these wildflower sacraments—

and that I ate and drank and worshiped there.



Unknown Priest

I followed a Western-wood peewee

to where peace and liveliness coincide:

A corner where periwinkle grows to hide

and my friend can eat in spring greenery.


His referee-whistle shrill stops me short:


“It’s not secret, but sacred,” he sounds.

With kind heart, he invites me along—

in reverence we escape the world’s throng


and he ordains me.



Who Called the Owl’s Name

The gale must have pressed her into the electric lines;

She fell on the front grass.


Now, two feet deep looking for the sky,

the snowy owl lies next to our golden retriever.

It seemed without honor to put the carcass in communal trash

though the garbage truck was coming down the block

and we could soon forget.


Instead, we determined a sacred owl burial.


Now the yard seems wiser,

and so are we.



Autumn Dance Championships

Of all the colored slices that danced from limb to earth

a weeping willow leaf won grand champion.


Springing from tree,

the narrow tumbler went prone

and rolled like an old-time mower blade

chopping the air

beatboxing the fastest spin Indian summer had ever judged,

gliding over warm and cool currents


until a mile of October sky had been clipped.


Kendall Grant As a freshman in college, I realized that Gerard Manley Hopkins’ “Pied Beauty” captured more detail than I had discovered in life. His lines started my pilgrimage into nature and poetry. Professionally, I teach at a religiously affiliated university where the spiritual and academic collide sparking principle-based insight and action. The desired result is a life of disciplined service to God, country, and world.

Dotted Line