Poetry

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

I accept the cardinal that comes to the tree...

Pamela Rice Porter 11-01-1998

Carver at market speaks to a tourist
Luanda, Angola

Mil Norman Risch 9-01-1998

The sky shifts pinks of light through louvered fingers...

Mary F.C. Pratt 9-01-1998

It rained and rained.

David Sparenberg 7-01-1998

I have come forth
to set my heart
on the ground

and to make a small
signal fire,
mixing smoke
with dust and clouds.

The blue-white
flame, with the orange
aura, bright
as the blood oranges
of the south,

this
will be the burning
of my soul.
How long
does a soul endure
in a changing place?

Martha Townley 5-01-1998

I am a needle sewing...

Larry Brown 3-01-1998

My Lord has lifted been in blackest blue...

Patricia Rourke 1-01-1998

The book of the Persian poet covered in red amber
promises riches, gold that filters through the cracks...

Anna Citrino 1-01-1998

Tufa twists into the sky...

Daniel Mills 11-09-1997
Advent, 1996
Steve Harris 9-01-1997

Mud sucking at bare feet,
St. Francis walks the rain

The world is one scared woman in the rain.

Raphaelle Kosek 7-01-1997

Van Gogh saw...

Rose Marie Berger 5-01-1997

Northern cardinal chips away
at the blue light

Priscilla Atkins 3-01-1997

From below,
it looks like a young woman