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January 11, 2023 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
All light of yesterday in this place is now hidden. It could be the ground heating my feet or it could have fled with the stream into some larger body. I wait for the moon,...
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January 11, 2023 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
Insects have transformed into a graveyard the windshield of my Indian Scout. My brother rumbles down the engine of his Chief, pulls off his gloves, loads the camera &...
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January 8, 2023 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
admininfin8 |
0
Romantic partners just aren’t bikes, are they? My eighteen year old hybrid still runs like a dream. I just pump up his tires at the beginning of the season, and once or twice during, take...
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February 2, 2022 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
you can never not see a bird in your house. Every rustling paper, every curtain twisting in a breeze, every shadow on a ceiling is a frantic, fluttering bird. One winter we had...
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September 30, 2021 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
“…Speak to me. Take my hand. I will tell you all. I will conceal nothing…Fist my mind in your hand. What are you now?…” -from Effort at Speech Between Two People by Muriel...
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October 25, 2020 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
admininfin8 |
0
From under the awning, I could hear a sound like small fragmenting pieces of stone crashing into the window. The rain was starting to pour down from above; listening to it for a moment, I...
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December 26, 2019 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
COUNTING EVERY PETAL The ground is finally bare, the snow vanished into it as if it had not smothered the world for months. It might wrap its shroud around us again. We...
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November 23, 2019 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
MILK Milk arrives like a blessing in my dreams— blue-white as a glacial waterfall from a far-off thaw. In my most joyous dream, a precious rare appearance, I am old—old as...
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November 16, 2019 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
When a beloved dies, we gather like elephants to mourn the bones touching each foot ankle, femur, rib, vertebrae, shoulder, stroking the pelvis, jaw, cranium, moving each one separately...
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January 15, 2019 |
in Fiction |
admininfin8 |
0
On the one year anniversary of Allison’s assault, the garbage man—he preferred this title to “sanitation worker”— saw, as he was emptying a trash can into the dump bed of the...
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March 16, 2018 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
admininfin8 |
0
“Oh I don’t see color… ” Please for the love of god STOP SAYING THAT! YOU DO SEE COLOR!!!! You’re supposed to, as per direct orders from the universe!...
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March 15, 2018 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
AS A GHOST I’LL MAKE SURE THAT YOU’LL KEEP ON RUNNING INTO ME BACK AND FORTH, IN SOME SHAPE AND FORM WE WILL BE…” I think she was hoping he was really a gardener....
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March 15, 2018 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
I love the rain when the rain fills the river, when the rain fills the river, and the river starts to run, and the willow branches read the braille of raindrops on the surface, and ducks,...
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January 30, 2018 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
admininfin8 |
0
When folk singer Pete Seeger and some friends launched the Clearwater sloop nearly 50 years ago, the Hudson River was a fish-killing open sewer from industries and municipalities along...
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January 30, 2018 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
admininfin8 |
0
One spring Saturday in York County, Pennsylvania, my husband Fred picked up a five-gallon aluminum gas can he’d left on the asphalt by our garage over the winter. I was cleaning out the...