A Mormon literary backcountry where words and place come together.

 

 

 

 

winter’s breath by Linda Crate

Monday, January 30th, 2012

I watched the world around me;
winter swallowed me in snow —
the skies were somber and grey.
Only a cardinal pierced the scene
of melancholy waves that washed
their newness upon the earth with
the promise of renewed hope.  As
the pains of yesterday were taken
from the land in ivory tears, I was
poured into chalices of reflection.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Linda Crate is a Pennsylvanian [...]

I Wish by Sonnet Mondal

Wednesday, July 20th, 2011

I wish you could infiltrate
My subliminal mind
But that will be like patting
A perfidious snake head—
Smooth, shiny but rough
For tender fingertips.
I have intoxicated many
And no more now.
Perhaps I’m tired
My tongue is hanging out
Without venom, motionless
Even in storms, out of power
Even to plead.
Now just a sense of knowing
Could cure me, rejuvenate
Me, purify me to be
A person again,
For [...]

Seeing is Pleasure by Sonnet Mondal

Tuesday, July 19th, 2011

The 7 o’ clock was hot again, hotter than any 7 o’ clock.
A drop of sweat travelling down my cheek
In search of destination stopped suddenly
And I rubbed it off, removing its existence.
I went up for a glass of glucose to see
Ants caving in there;
The glass had one inch water with dead ants floating—
Perhaps they have [...]

The Figure I Love by Sonnet Mondal

Monday, July 18th, 2011

The shy eyes filled with metallic lustre ogle at me
in the moonlit night.
I try to fix my concentration
within the shining leaves of the tree.
The girl with a brown body,
green eyelids, a hundred arms is what I see.
She has a unique pose; bent back resting upon flat feet.
Dry hairs straight down to soil,
and the light song [...]

String Theory by Steven L. Peck

Friday, April 22nd, 2011

On the warm late Spring shore, late
in a lunar glow,
he stood looking at the waves
trooping slowly, relentlessly into the cove
He stood wondering about the strings
of which some say he was made
Of what tidal forces were they drawn?
What sort of other moon forced him
into existence by its orbit around . . . what?
He placed his foot [...]

Haiku along Earth’s Sky-Path

Monday, March 30th, 2009

by greenfrog
Fall’s day-stars now gleam
Through leafing willow twigs. Spent
Bud-shells crunch on Path.
 
Cross-posted at In Limine: On the threshold, at the beginning.