the earth is a living thing –Lucille Clifton From Collected Poems of Lucille Clifton is a black shambling bear ruffling its wild back and tossing mountains into the sea is a black hawk circling the burying ground circling the bones…
Unvaccinated People Increase Risk for Vaccinated People
I can’t say that I’m surprised. Remaining unvaccinated increases risk to the vaccinated, says U of T COVID study People who are unvaccinated against COVID-19 not only place themselves at greater risk of getting infected by the virus, but also…
Poem: I Don’t Know What Will Kill Us First: The Race War or What We’ve Done to the Earth
I Don’t Know What Will Kill Us First: The Race War or What We’ve Done to the Earth –Fatimah Asghar so I count my hopes: the bumblebees are making a comeback, one snug tight in a purple flower I passed…
Poem: Good Grief
Good Grief –KB Brookins after the 2021 Texas Winter Storm I’ll admit that I’ve never thought about frostbite. Trauma of the blood, a thing to be avoided when heat goes out for an entire state. I don’t know where to…
Week 16 of the 2022 Peppermint Purple SAL
This week’s block was very simple.
Poem: They Sit Together on the Porch
They Sit Together on the Porch by Wendell Berry From A Timbered Choir They sit together on the porch, the dark Almost fallen, the house behind them dark. Their supper done with, they have washed and dried The dishes–only two…
Poem: I No Longer Sing With Only My Voice
I No Longer Sing With Only My Voice –Afton Wilder I no longer sing with only my voice. I sing with my heart, my love. I no longer sing with only my voice. I sing with my mind, my thought.…
Poem: The Problem
The Problem –Taylor Mali From What Learning Leaves You’re the this that somebody ought to do something about. — Jeffrey McDaniel The guy in front of me trying to get on the subway who is blocking my way…
Poem: Canary
Canary –Rita Dove From Grace Notes Billie Holiday’s burned voice had as many shadows as lights, a mournful candelabra against a sleep piano, the gardenia her signature under that ruined face. (Now you’re cooking, drummer to bass, magic spoon, magic needle.…
Poem: To Hold
To Hold –Li-Young Lee From Behind My Eyes So we’re dust. In the meantime, my wife and I make the bed. Holding opposite edges of the sheet, we raise it, billowing, then pull it tight, measuring by eye as it falls…