Elizabeth Howard

  • The Bear’s Back
     
    Last night I dreamt of a bear
    who carries us through the forest on his back.
    He goes through the mud,
    we cling to his fur,
    he wants to bury us
    in a storyteller’s thro […]

  • Trudy wrote a new post 8 years, 9 months ago

    by Mary Carroll-Hackett
     

    I move too fast. Always have. I talk fast, walk fast, read quickly, even had to be taught as a child to slow down while eating, Mama saying things like It’s not a race, Mary, or You […]

  • Trudy wrote a new post 8 years, 10 months ago

           by Laura Marello

     

    Many people knew him better and longer. Many can say more articulate things about his work. I always loved him so much. I remember many details of our ten months at the Fine A […]

  • When I was in college I took a child development class with a lab, complete with Osh Kosh B’Gosh clad tots. We studied how they picked up language to convey meaning.

    It was fascinating.

    I r […]

  • Wonderful introduction, Rose, of this poem and of yourself! Best of luck in the new job!

  • Who knew milk cartons had gables? ‘Embossed on gable’ said the fine print, explaining where to find the identifying information, in case of what, a recall? Dottie wondered. Does half-and-half get rec […]

  • Full Snow Moon
     
    Fat and slow, she climbs the eastern sky
    like an old woman climbs stairs,
    holding onto tree branches and stars
    to make her way to February’s zenith.
    She rises on time, a beacon fully se […]

  • Before there were Google maps, cable travel channels and live streaming from every corner of the Internet, there were slides, those posh cousins of snapshots. The tiny film inside a cardboard frame only reveals […]

  • Trudy wrote a new post 8 years, 11 months ago

    I talk to dead people. Oh, don’t get worried. It’s not like they talk back. Although, there was that time…

    What I’m saying is that I have some graves that are my favorite haunts. (And just to be absol […]

  • In a northern portion of the Midwest, on a night of light snow, during the few minutes just before and after ten o’clock, some things happened. They occurred along a route on which a southbound train traveled t […]

  • Agnostic
     
    In the bath a spider crawls along the ledge.
    It’s tiny enough that it doesn’t scare
    this arachnophobe. Isn’t that the way
    fear works, the smaller the threat the less
    a reason to run? Unlike the […]

  • Erika Raskin wrote a new post 9 years ago

     

    I wrote these poems to capture and preserve real events. They depict shifts from isolation and loss to connection and love—the dance of relationships in unexpected places, with unexpected dance pa […]

  • Sharron Singleton wrote a new post 9 years ago

    Common Stingray
     
                      Dasyatis pastinaca

    In the infinite silence
       of her velvety skin, she roams
             through moon water at night,

    scours coastal shallows, glides
       around th […]

  • Susan,

    what a romp through tropes–“The Sudden Appearance of an Identical Twin”
    thank you!

  • Erika Raskin wrote a new post 9 years ago

    I recognize that I may be a tad more sensitive to the prospect of police state behavior than the average Jo but I come by this extra helping of unease naturally. Because of his liberal politics my dad, Marcus […]

  • And I also meant to say, beautifully written!

  • Incredibly strong, brave and moving. Thank you.

  • Sharron Singleton wrote a new post 9 years ago

    Blue
     
    It must have been her accent
    that seduced and baffled my ears.
    The Egyptian woman, still lost
    in the desert air of Cairo,
    read her poems filled with water
    from the Nile and blue heaven,
    blue […]

  • Sharron, those nearly 80 years you’ve been around have refined your writing and artistry. This is a memoir filled with delicious visuals.

  • Sharron Singleton wrote a new post 9 years ago

    In my almost 80 years it seems as if I have lived numerous lives because the world has changed so swiftly under my feet. My world now as a mother, grandmother and great-grandmother, pastor’s wife and poet could n […]

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