A red roan Appaloosa moseys to the railand pokes her nose across at me to snuffsome sweet hay in my fist, switching her tailas her eyes cross to focus on the stuffthe better in the dim air. Stars are …
Footprints on my barn floor To whom do they belong? To what do they belong?
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 …
The Bucks County Choral Society will conclude its 50th Anniversary Season with a concert at 4 p.m. Sunday, June 4, at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Doylestown.Titled “Life begins at 50 – Our …
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 …
Frenchtown Bookshop, 28 Bridge St., Frenchtown, N.J., continues its First Saturday Poetry series with featured poet Shawn R. Jones, at 6:30 p.m. Saturday. Jones is a Pushcart Prize nominee, and her …
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 …
Bucks County poet and writer Lynn Levin’s debut collection of short stories, “House Parties,” published by Spuyten Duyvil, is due out May 1.Her poem “Fixing Broken Things” recently appeared …
A round of robins stab soft, wet soccer field. I find aluminum bleachers, and pull out my writing. They’re confused at first, they’re focused on the worms. They become curious and approach taking in taking in my vowels and consonants.
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 …
Every seventh day that winter, he drove an old white van covered with hand-lettered Bible verses to a stretch of backroad between two rattling cornfields, under transmission towers that sizzled in the …
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 …
I enjoy the Poet’s Corner column. I especially enjoyed the recent poem “Where I’m From”. I was quite surprised to see that a 13-yea-old had written the poem, with its last line message that …
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 …
Sky nearly white as the fields, white as the roofs tinged with ...
