Got my contributor’s copy a few days ago and finally got around to scanning the cover for you all to see. Purty ain’t it? There’s
Category: Reading
A Birthday MY heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a water’d shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are
Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock. “Now they are all on their knees,” An elder said as we sat in a flock By the
The Savior must have been A docile Gentleman– To come so far so cold a Day For little Fellowmen– The Road to Bethlehem Since He
Read “Persephone in Tel Aviv” by my homegirl Peg Duthie.
There is no magic any more, We meet as other people do, You work no miracle for me Nor I for you. You were the
A Man may make a Remark— In itself—a quiet thing That may furnish the Fuse unto a Spark In dormant nature—lain— Let us deport—with skill—