Poetry

Todd Davis 3-01-2002

Of course it's not what I expected.

Therese Halscheid 1-01-2002

Along the Volga River, Russia 1993

Louise Murphy 11-01-2001

The sky is gorged with snow. 

I keep track of the comings and goings of people.

Scott Cairns 5-01-2001

Your petitions—though they continue to bear

just the one signature—have been duly recorded.

St. Teresa Puts in a Skylight

Linda McCarriston 1-01-2001

Street Person, Portland, Maine: circa 1965

Rod Jellema 11-01-2000

Poetry is like prayer in that it is most effective in
solitude and in the times of solitude as, for
example, in the earliest morning. —Wallace Stevens

William Miller 9-01-2000

A poem

Daniel Lamberton 7-01-2000

You can imagine why they call this ship a tender

Dale M. Kushner 5-01-2000

Very soon now the light shall die.
The Great World will be rent—
ashes, sobbing seraphim, calves
born with crabbed feet. Rain
then the absence of rain.
Wild thunder pounds in my head.

I didn’t follow the holy man around
I never sat down to a meal with him

Loving him began this way: water
poured into emptiness
the bowl filling

I have been in the House of Yahweh.

Vassar Miller 11-01-1999

In the barnyard of my bone
Let the animals kneel down...

Ernest Mulbah 9-01-1999
A poem for my grandfather.
Murray Bodo 7-01-1999

---in memory of Denise Levertov, 1923-1997

Judith Yarnall 3-01-1999
for Grace Lorch