Tell me, she whispered, when the kids were down And the dark of day had drifted over like a welcome shroud, What is your love?
Archive for the 'Submissions to WIZ' Category
Look with wonder on the world And on the walkers in the world Familiar and strange as if on God, For gods they are, unknowing.
I wish I had a home— No, not my own— A place I’d shared with others All the summers of my life Or all the winters. But, as it stands, the candidates Are fallen into disrepair (False friends!), or usurped by Some false, pretending owner (Who would, her eyes askance, Refuse me ingress or relief), […]
__________________________________________________________________________________________________ In addition to writing poetry, directing memoir groups, and writing stories for […]
Today is WIZ’s fifth birthday! To celebrate that and LONNOL Month, we’re giving away TWO free silver screen classics from days of yore for your viewing pleasure! This first is a rerun from a previous WIZ Retro Review Giveaway, but it’s one of my favorite old flicks. Come Next Spring is a generous story with […]
(For Clinton F. Larson) How long did I look in that face, admit that voice? He left his door unlocked to me, kept ice cream money in a drawer. He fit his office to my urchin company. Those years I spent his foundling, each day waking, I toyed on his baroque and spiraled stair. “Look, […]
The world is in chaos, but Tom Turner is frying two eggs and a side of bacon. His wife, Mattie, sits at the kitchen table eating cold cereal and watching the news on her tablet. Revolutions are whittling away at South America. Europe is on the brink of collapse. China is squeezing the U.S. dry. […]
As part of Wilderness Interface Zone’s Love of Nature Nature of Love Month, we thought it would be fun to run a Valentine haiku chain. This is a just for fun song and dance event for many voices and dancing levels. A haiku is a classical Japanese poetical form, usually 17 syllables all in a […]
The trees in river country know the wind, and how to bend in winter blasts. They hold snow and take the water. They change color— as the leaves of maples turn, so too a sister to her brother. There are deep roots in a certain field, grown up on our name past—fed by ashes of […]
You watched her pass, the woman you were with while you learned Poetry. Black hair—she smiled with such grey eyes— you watched her pass without goodbyes, and these hills blind me, golden; fierce with bristling grass, smoking in the sun: a cloud kicked up, an offering to sanctify our suffering. She lay down for a […]