To Be a Poet- A poem by Jess River

Thursday, May 10, 2018

To be a poet you have to stop running from all that keeps you running top speed into forever as if getting there was an option. Getting here is the option; every single moment longs to open us to the forever enthroned in the present. Right here Right now. Right.

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The Lonely Trout Brook – A Poem by Doris Streeter

I miss the lonely trout brook that goes rushing and tumbling along. Its white foam and green waters, its loud, mysterious song. I loved to watch it passing seated on the grass. It went so fast and swirling I hardly saw it pass. It goes so fast and never fails or ever lacks for rain. …

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A Taffy Pull, Southern Style By Betty Brauer

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

  I grew up in the West Virginia wilderness on a hill called Semon Hill. There was no real town, simply a row of houses built on the ridge of this hill. The closest town was Gauley Mills, one of many mill towns that sprung up during the building of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroads. …

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