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Riehlife Poem of the Day: Marilyn Nelson’s “Dusting” poem-prayer
Dusting by Marilyn Nelson from Magnificat Thank you for these tiny particles of ocean salt, pearl-necklace viruses, winged protozoans: for the infinite, intricate shapes of submicroscopic living things. For algae spores and fungus spores, bonded by vital mutual genetic cooperation, spreading their inseparable lives from equator to pole. My hand, my arm, make sweeping circles….
Washing those Words Right Out of Your Head
I can’t get you out of my head…”Going out of my head….over you.” Wily words, I’ve been writing you in my head, what good does that do? If you’ve been trotting around with a head full of words and wondering how to transfer these onto paper, here are a few tips. Good work habits help…
Blog Action Day: Poverty in the Great Depression. “The Kind of People that We Are”—a poem by Erwin A. Thompson
Blog Action Day is today, with a focus on Poverty. Currently 9,394 Sites with an audience with more than 10,612,112 readers are registered in Blog Action Day 2008. Last year, I participated when bloggers focused on the Environment. Read my post on how it’s “Easy to be green at the Carelton Hotel in San Francisco.”…
“NESTING,” a poem of life-long love between my parents Erwin and Ruth Thompson
Following a major stroke in 2001 up until the last few weeks before my mother’s death in 2006, we were able to care for my mother at home. Many families would not have made this choice or had the resources to carry out this choice. My father, supported by a strong family team, was my…
Hardtimes Lessons: “Moonlighting,” story and poem by William T. Dawson
William T. Dawson’s poem “Moonlighting” is a poem of an event from the 1980s (when some of us remember the recession). Dawson’s poem speaks to our times as hard times cycle back around. I asked William to tell us a bit about the context surrounding writing his poem. This is what he said: I write…
“Bus Run,” a poem by Janet Grace Riehl rushes down time’s hill hoping not to be late
BUS RUN by Janet Grace Riehl (from Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary) My drumbeat feet round the corner of our private road that rushes down towards the river. A bulldozer a decade past shaved off the sharp bend in the road to reduce the odds that downhill cars crashed into uphill cars. We trudged up this…