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Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 1 month ago
Some Trepidation by Fred Wilbur
I am scheduled for a tri-annual colonoscopy soon and like most people, I buy into the statistics of cancer prevention, though it is not an event […]
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Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 1 month, 1 week ago
Arson by Matt Dhillon
Matt Dhillon is the 3rd place winner of Streetlight’s 2022 Poetry Contest Arson Blistering heat, mother of me. A little gasoline makes the […]
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Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 1 month, 2 weeks ago
The Sink by Eric Odynocki
Eric Odynocki is the 2nd place winner of Streetlight’s 2022 Poetry Contest The Sink glints like a boneyard, white plates peeking over the rim […]
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Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 1 month, 3 weeks ago
Appeasement by John Cullen
John Cullen is the 1st place winner of Streetlight’s 2022 Poetry Contest Appeasement Three hundred pounds of pasture mix in the […]
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Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 1 month, 4 weeks ago
Time Traveling by Bill Glose
Driving switchbacks on Shenandoah’s spine, dipping into valleys and screaming up again, we scorch speed warnings from yellow di […]
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Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 2 months, 1 week ago
A Gull and The Black Birch, 2 poems by J. R. Solonche
A Gull A gull so far from the river circles the parking lot. Its whiteness is lost in this late fall day’s brightness. Its black edges are lost […]
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Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 3 months, 1 week ago
Between the two American holidays of Thanksgiving and Christmas, it seems appropriate to write about one aspect of both: food.
Traditionally the first Thanksgiving was a celebration of a successful, […]
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Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 3 months, 3 weeks ago
a lot of roadkill lately.
one sign of summer’s
approach. dead foxes—
dead birds especially.
and once, on the main road
driving toward blessington,
an otter—an almost
intact thing, a torso
as thick […] -
Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 3 months, 3 weeks ago
The sky streams by overhead, a blue tapestry
dappled with puffs of white, each cloud haloedby the sun’s mild gold. The day is at its half-
way point. Soon, the sky will lose its hold on gold,the b […]
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Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 4 months, 3 weeks ago
the fancy radio my wife gifted
into my simple pickup
has finally dieddespite all manner of punching and twirling,
little instrument won’t rouse,
nor even static startle, and
the bright digital time s […] -
Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 5 months, 2 weeks ago
I gave up early:
and went to a houseboat
to mourn:both named a beer
and splashed next
to woes about your love
in a bunk of redwood
done messy by stinkbugs.your ad […]
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Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 5 months, 3 weeks ago
Morels
………………….For Tom Proutt
In my latest unsuccessful hunt for the unicorn
of the woods, I found a two-point buck skull,
a square of soapstone, a 1952 Mennen bottle,
and a foxhole. […] -
Fred Wilbur commented on the post, Writing Appalachia by Sharon Ackerman 5 months, 3 weeks ago
Thanks Sharon, for this thoughtful introduction to the current/recent literature of Appalachia.
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Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 6 months, 1 week ago
Sending simultaneous submissions is a fact of a poet’s life whether you practice the strategy or not. How such a maneuver began may be one of those mysteries of history, but it is acceptable to most literary v […]
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Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 7 months, 1 week ago
….1. France. Poppies blooming blood.
Hedged by four sheets strung on wire, my grandparents
spent their wedding night, December 1917:
a New York married-barracks, moans muffled
the night before the men […] -
Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 7 months, 2 weeks ago
“Lose something every day. Accept the fluster . . .” (Elizabeth Bishop)
Every once in a while I open
one of too-many, tinyboxes, and there you are,
bright stab of memory: My bra […] -
Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 7 months, 3 weeks ago
“An artist is said to be original exactly when he takes up the challenge of tradition and makes us see something more than we already knew.” Demetri Porphyrios. Classical Architecture.
I am a fund […]
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Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 8 months ago
It’s wrong to feel lucky
when a poplar blooms.
…………Branches spit out slender pinks below low clouds.In fields here, we find arrowheads.
Ancient whispers on the ridge. One death begs […] -
Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 8 months, 1 week ago
Vigil
Outside the nurses’ station,
third floor east, twilight spreads
its white canopy over
the busy avenue of bright buildings.
Down the hall, an orderly lofts a pale
sheet over a vacant bed.
In the next […] -
Fred Wilbur wrote a new post 10 months ago
As a very small child I learned language just like all small children. Only in my case there were some mysterious words that took me years to sort out their true meaning. There were words like Amtrak, lugao, Santo […]
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