A widow weeds beside the house that has become her husband. She’s annoyed he hasn’t shaved. She walks to the lake that has become her sister. They pour into each other. She tells the lake about …
In the year 1950 on a cool September morn Was a tragic disaster yet to be born. Just ahead was a troop train stalled on the track And the Spirit of St. Louis was coming in the back. Then it all happened, …
We speak in whispers, move in silence from room to room, listen to the oxygen’s steady pump moisture bubbling through the tubes. Three days unresponsive. I sit with her until someone else comes in. …
Poet’s Corner is curated by Bucks County Poet Laureate Tom Mallouk and supported by a grant to the Bucks County Herald Foundation made possible by Marv and Dee Ann Woodall.
As frost softens and ice disintegrates, daylight lingers, only slightly until one evening, perhaps when you least expect it, the night opens to a chorus of small voices, sharp and shrill. The spring …
I LOOKED AROUND ONE DAY TO FIND - AN AGING FACE THAT WAS NOT MINE - A MOTHER WHO IS NO LONGER THERE - FOR HER CHILDREN WHO NOW HAVE CARES - THAT FAR EXCEED - HER POWER TO INVEIGH - AGAINST THE FATES …
Before the haulers arrived, we sat for the last time on its shabby cushions —tentative now, on opposite ends, like strangers at a depot, awaiting a bus. Agleam, it had stood out once, set down among …
The more generous you are the wider the ripples produced by your simple dropping of stones. You bring your child to the pond and collect a few gifts ground down by the centuries for human fingers to …
Through the kitchen window The wind chimes tinkle where they hang in the garden in harmony with the snow-covered pine branches rustling in the breeze. The snow muffles their vibrations as it …
Some objects are beyond repair: a shattered glassan obsolete computer, an old wife who mustbe swapped for one who’s younger, cutera home exploded by a storm, a busted reputationa banged-up auto …
I am from the huge woods and the sparkling grass to the smell of the pine trees. I am from the glistening color changing leaves, the jungle of pretty flowers and the dirty smell of mulch. I am from …
