An Interview with Lolla Bryant
by Joyce Hertzoff
First, a basic question, what does a facilitator do? How much do they bring to the class?
As facilitators, we basically set up and manage the classroom for the duration of the course. For literature classes, we research the author and their work to provide thorough information for those taking the course. After setting up the classroom and providing the necessary information, facilitators answer any questions the students may have, keep track of who does and doesn’t post their assignments, manage feedback required for course participation, and provide progress reports and reminders for students to complete classwork. We do this for the duration of the courses, which range from 1 to 16 weeks. It is because of our detailed involvement that I believe facilitators bring a tremendous amount to the class.
When did you start facilitating classes at WVU? Do you only facilitate MFA classes? Give us an estimate of the number of classes you’ve facilitated. Do you prefer to facilitate Literature or Core classes?
I completed the facilitator’s course in November 2018 and facilitated about 3 MFA classes shortly thereafter. Unfortunately, circumstances forced me to step away from WVU within a few months of that time until 2021. Since then, I have facilitated about six classes. I try to volunteer when I see the need but usually someone beats me to it (you know how wonderful our facilitators are). I facilitate all types of classes. MFA, Literature, and Core courses; whatever the need is.I can’t say I prefer a particular type. Although, I can say that facilitating Literature courses is a good way to ensure I get them completed.
What have you learned from facilitating? Would you recommend that others take the training class and facilitate classes?
Facilitating has taught me the value of experience. In the beginning, I was afraid to facilitate classes because I didn’t want to make some sort of mistake and have my classmates pay the price. I know, I know. I overprocessed that way too much. But for a short time, I let that fear deter me from volunteering as much. But I am so glad I didn’t let that stop me because the experience I’ve gained cannot be valued. I am more confident, not just in the WVU classroom, but in my professional life as well. I’ve also learned that the best way to learn something is to teach it to others. For that reason and the fact that there are few of us and many students, I recommend others take the training and begin facilitating classes. There is plenty of need for more.
How much time do you generally spend on each class, including preparation time and research? What kinds of things do you search for to add to the class?
That depends on the type of class and the length of it. I would estimate that for a 2-week class, I spend about 2 hours setting things up, answering questions, and monitoring feedback. For a 6 – 8-week class, that time increases (because of the additional weeks) to about 5 hours because those usually have more students attending which increases the feedback and questions, as well as more time researching or ensuring archived materials are up to date. I research things such as magazine articles about an author/subject, interviews by an author, and video clips available that may explain or enlighten students about a subject or author. A lot of information is archived but as I mentioned before, I have to research and be sure that information is still up to date before posting it in the classroom. We’ve all clicked on a provided link and found it no longer available. It is my responsibility to try to minimize that as much as possible.
How do you keep track of which students complete their assignments AND give sufficient feedback? What do you expect the feedback to include?
To keep track of students and assignments, I first make a list of who has posted their assignments. Then I go through and provide feedback for each assignment while noting which students have posted feedback for that post on my list of posted assignments. I also always check to see if the feedback word count required for the class is met. For an essay, I expect feedback to include the student’s thoughts and ideas concerning the topics and significance of their classmate’s post. It should be an exchange. I encourage them to ask questions of each other. For a short story or first draft, there is a list of suggestions I provide to assist with how to leave feedback. I expect a respectful evaluation of what they just read. What did they think of the technique used? Did the point-of-view impact the telling of the story? Is there a theme that stands out? Basically, things pertaining to the story’s structure.
What’s the hardest part about facilitating?
That would be the diplomacy of it all. I ask for respect for each other, the authors, and their work. There is a fine line between directness and rudeness (real or perceived). I do my best to ensure no one feels singled out or talked down to by minimizing posting individual directions or needs for modifications for a particular student in the classroom unless necessary. I send a personal message at least twice before doing that. Depending on what the issue is, I may reach out to their advisor to have a word with them. I’ve found this helps a lot with running a smooth classroom.
An Interview with Gary Josephsen
by Brigitte Whiting
What made you decide to become a facilitator?
It made sense to give back to WVU after years of taking classes. WVU runs on all of us. We're our own community and we make it what we want. Facilitating is a good way to contribute.
Has being a facilitator affected your writing?
I think so. As the facilitator, you're thinking about the concepts in more depth. You answer questions, reread things, and troubleshoot difficult concepts. All of this helps you learn better than simply taking the course. Also, sometimes as a student I might feel negativity or intellectual laziness, but as a facilitator, I remind myself to be positive and set an example (it's silly but it's true). Of course, this ends up making the experience more positive for me, as you'd expect, especially when the going gets tough.
What tips do you have for a newbie facilitator?
Stay positive and confident. We're all here to learn, and your fellow Villagers appreciate you facilitating these courses. When you read posts, highlight all the things students are doing well and empower their writing by asking questions and giving positive feedback.
Have you taught or facilitated classes outside of WVU?
This is the only forum in which I've taught writing, but I'm an ER doctor who teaches medical students. I'm also helping homeschool our kids right now, so there's a lot of teaching going on whether I'm motivated to do it or not. The key for me is to always look for the positive and highlight what students are doing right. This might also be a weakness of my teaching style, but I feel people are hard enough on themselves.
What has been your favorite class or classes to facilitate?
I created a course on dialogue and facilitated it with help from other Villagers. The process was difficult but rewarding. It highlighted that sometimes there is a disconnect between one's expectations and the reality of the course as it plays out and people learn. Times like that are a good opportunity to focus on that positivity manta.
How much time does it take to research and prepare for each class? And to give feedback? As a facilitator, what other kinds of things do you spend time on?
Researching and preparing for a class the first time is a little time intensive. I copy and save the code in a file on my computer which makes it easier to post again the next time you facilitate the class. Feedback can also require a lot of time in a large class, but you can explain your constraints and keep it short when you need to do so. People understand and respect your time. Feedback, like anything else, is quality over quantity.
Please share what you'd like to on your special love of writing. Is there some aspect of writing which really intrigues you? What classes have you taken here?
What I love about writing is the chance to share a character's inner world. No other medium allows us to do this as well as a written narrative. It's a bit of a miracle: an ancient art of written telepathy that despite thousands of years of progress, cannot be improved upon, like bread.
Open Positions
by Joyce Hertzoff
A Call for Advisors
Would you like to be an advisor for current incoming students for the MFA program? All, or almost all of you, were assigned one when you started working on your MFA certificate at WVU. We saw a large influx of students during the last year or two. Currently, there are only a few active advisors to be contact points for those students. If you have taken MFA 2000, you learned additional ways to navigate the site and many other things you need to know to advise them. But most importantly, you need to want to help new students find their way. This is what I do as an advisor:
1. Contact assigned new students by phone or email.
2. Chat with them, ask them questions and answer theirs.
3. Record their answers.
4. Provide a contact point for their future questions.
5. Encourage them in their MFA journey.
6. Make sure they know where to find answers about the program, including requirements.
A follow-up message includes links to important information.
Not all that much, right? Keeping track of your advisees is easy. You’ll learn a lot about WVU as you help them. It’s been a pleasure for me to get to know so many new students from all over the world and watch their progress through the program. You’ll enjoy it as much as I do. Give it a try.
If you’re interested in joining us, send a private message to This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.
Coming Soon!
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We were exhausted by Tokyo. Exhausted from the excitement of having finally arrived, from steering through the crowds and having our ears rattled by the strident chatter all around us, jetlagged, sand-bagged by the sauna heat of the city’s streets. Exhausted above all by the people of Tokyo. ...
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It was 3:25 when Walter walked into Bongart's Cleaners on Eighth Street. He approached the counter and dinged the silver bell. By the time he got the claim ticket from his wallet, Sally came out from the back room through the curtained doorway.
Though Sally was middle aged...
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Jack pulled the comforter over his head and clamped his hands over his ears, but it did
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"How terrible the moon," Mr. Abrams said each time there was a full moon. "There's sadness with beauty."
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Morgan smiled at the barista taking her cappuccino order. The coffee a small indulgence to celebrate a fantastic day. Two job offers. The gods were smiling on her, finally. She set her purse on the counter, and a rack of keychains beside the cash register tinkled at the...
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“We love those who know the worst of us and don’t turn their faces away.”
-Walker Percy
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Annie had dreamed of her wedding day since she was six years old and received a bride doll. She'd even planned and revised how the day would unfold a hundred times. Her mother had read the notes and lamented how she didn't remember her own wedding. Annie vowed...
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Oily rags covered her toes and loose leather straps ran around her heels. A hint of blood seemed to darken each step she took through the falling Thanksgiving snow.
“Hav ye ah pence, kind sir?”
A single coin flew through the cold air, and a rag-covered hand suddenly...
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He recalls an old mill pond. He sees with ease the boy he was, a child smoking while watching the small red and white bobber he has cast out to the edge of the lily pads, hoping mostly for a bass or a pickerel while expecting a perch, ...
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Jim Keohane drops his razor into the basin of hot soapy water as his body slumps suddenly with the news coming over the radio. Bobby Kennedy was fatally shot at the Ambassador Hotel just after midnight in Los Angeles, just after 3 AM, Eastern Standard Time. Alone, no...
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Skippy Graycoat woke up early to the chirping of birds. It had been a long night for the young squirrel. He spent hours fixing up his new apartment, a fancy little hollow inside of an old, maple tree, and he was happy to finally have some privacy. No...
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Clara Beth didn't remember that she'd promised to fill the cast iron bean pot for the Smithville Annual Bean Hole Bean Pot supper until late Friday afternoon when she received the call that the bean hole was prepared, the embers hot and ready. "Almost ready," she lied. What...
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“Don’t be ridiculous,” Angelina scoffed at Sam, her husband of sixty years. “You’re not leaving. You won’t last a day without me.”
“I can’t deal with you anymore,” he said as he walked out the door. As if she’d been the one to disappoint, to betray.
Angelina’s sagging...
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He hurts, body, mind, and soul. Death has made its introduction and he has given it a knowing nod. At this moment he’s in a hospice unit. The head of his bed is elevated and he’s in the consoling company of his dog, Emerson. The dog proved quickly...
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It’s my boat yard, and I don’t much care for the look of her. It’s a point of pride. You should be able to take a level to a boat up on lumber. Every day with her list, she stares me down. She looks guilty and sad with...
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Creating an imaginary garden
with real toads in it.
--Marianne Moore
Frogs circle the yellow-and-black snake in the trout stream by instinct, no less. Mr. Yorick, tall, but roundish, ...
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The old grand piano sat in lonely corner of the room. Dust covered the piano body, and insects crept in through the keys. For the house’s inhabitants, the grand piano was merely a dead wooden sound-making device mechanically operated. No one ever tried to infuse life into the...
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Jake dropped the baby off at daycare early that morning and replaced three water heaters by lunch. There were two HVAC systems left to service, so he wolfed down a sandwich as he drove between jobs. When he got back to the shop that afternoon, his boss called...
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I'm sorry, but you’ll need to go. I'm afraid to step out on the deck now after the morning before yesterday when you swarmed out of your nest and hung like a large black shadow, angry looks on your faces. We could have lived together, me on my...
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It was a morning in December of 2006 when we left you there. You could still walk then with help; someone had to hold your shaky right hand and wrap the other arm around your waist to steady your wobbly body. I helped you put on your white...
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We’re in Casablanca. I’ve been here before but Derek has not. “It would be beyond belief to go to Casablanca and not go to Ricks Café,” he famously said when we planned this trip – and here we are. ‘Casablanca’ is his favourite film of all time, no...
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I cannot tell you why I decided to write. Perhaps circumstance nudged me or perhaps curiosity or perhaps a desire to find the words to process the world, the human condition. Perhaps I wanted to find out how I feel or how my eyes see the world. Perhaps...
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Each fall, Maine’s monarch butterflies migrate two thousand miles to spend the winter in Mexico. Then the following February, the butterflies begin their trek north. It will take three to five generations—the adult monarchs laying eggs, the caterpillars growing, forming themselves into chrysalises and metamorphizing, and new butterflies...
Read more: Milkweed and Monarchs
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My love for reading started early. I traveled the world and rode dragons, fought knights, stormed castles, stole treasure with pirates and rescued kidnapped princesses. I floated down rivers in the deepest regions of unexplored lands. I climbed trees and mountains and flew on clouds.
Mom read to...
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A flock of wild turkeys has wandered in and out of my yard for years. I have a raised deck so my birdfeeders stand ten feet off the ground and the turkeys graze under them. They are timid birds, and typically when I step out onto the deck, ...
Read more: To Thwart a Wild Turkey Hen
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I joined a writing critique group in the spring of 2019. I wanted to learn how to write both fiction and nonfiction. I was rather confident that I wouldn’t have any problems. How hard could it be after writing business letters and lesson plans for thirty years? Plus, ...
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What makes a place a home? I grew up on a small farm in Sunnyside, Washington, where my dad raised sheep and my mom took care of the house and yard. For almost twenty-two years I called this place home. But home wasn’t the location, Sunnyside. It was...
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I must be the Charlie Brown of writers because I’ve never been able to figure out what “style” is all about. What does that word, ‘style,’ mean? I’ve always had a problem with it. If there were such a thing as “styleblindness,” a disease like colorblindness, I’d be...
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Like the many millions that have come before you, and like the still many millions around you, you may find yourself facing both a troubled past and an uncertain future. Initially and unavoidably, both your past and your future need to be faced concurrently. In so doing, you...
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The Corona virus presents new challenges. Stuck at home, and with more of us sleeping, eating and working here, and a dirtier house, I was finally going to have to figure out how to use my new vacuum cleaner. Ordered a year ago, it mostly sat in its...
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Get up early. You can’t ride all day if you sleep in. Braid your hair tight — you don’t want it flapping in the wind. Make sure you don’t wear the undies with the seams down the back because after a long day of riding they will make...
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I understand a little bit about wild turkeys. They're on a constant hunt for food, drifting through the neighborhood scrounging what they can. But I don't know how it happens that a few will either be left behind by the flock or leave it. This past fall, I'd...
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Saturday mornings were special occasions at our house when we were growing up. My friends begged to spend the night so they could be part of the Saturday morning ritual.
Mom would take out her green plastic bowl and splash in a little water, a little cocoa powder, ...
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When I was a child, my mom and Aunt Leona would pack us six kids into our blue Chevy Belair and drive to a local mobile home dealer (they were known as trailers back then). We would walk through the new homes, just for something to do. How...
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Autumn is falling in Maine, harder this year than I remember over the last few falls. We've had two nights of close to freezing temperatures, not enough to ice over the birdfeeders or kill any of my plants yet, but cold enough to turn the furnace on. My...
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Every year shortly before spring, the Gurney’s Seed & Nursery Co. catalog shows up on my doorstep. The cover is plastered with a WARNING label in big black letters informing me that if I don’t order now, this will be my last catalog. It also has coupons: $100...
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Mornings, I like to have a Kindle eBook open on the dining room table so I can read and look out into the backyard to see what might be happening.
I live in a raised ranch with an attached two-car garage. My deck, which is off the kitchen...
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A book club I’m part of recently discussed The Ruinsby Scott Smith. It’s not a book I would have finished reading based on the first 50 pages, but sticking with it afforded me insight into what a narrative voice can do. The story is about a group...
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Go to work every day. Do your job. Do it well. Always learning, getting better every day. Soaking in the letters that become words, that lead to success.
Meetings, instructions, to-do lists, directions — the words start to drown like a river of brown muddy water rushing through...
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On our homeschool adventure today, we dreamed aloud of the places we would travel to if we could. My kids and I agree: Ireland and Scotland are our top two places to visit. We played music from Spotify and sang aloud to the merry tunes of the Irish.
...
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I am twisted, bent, and deformed on every side. Everyone trying to use me to serve their own purposes, to justify their own beliefs and actions. Their eyes constantly sliding away from my pure, unaltered form, too brilliant and painful to behold without their chosen filters to dim...
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The monarch caterpillar couldn't decide where to turn itself into a chrysalis. He wandered across my front stoop so many times I was afraid I'd step on it so I stopped using the front door. One time, he'd be crawling up a post of the front railing. Another...
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I had no idea what milkweed looked like because I'd never seen it, but I'd always wanted it to grow in my yard so I could see the monarch butterflies.
For the longest time, I've hoped the patch of wonderfully fragrant plants with pale purple flowers growing...
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Dedicated to my sister Marilyn Anne Walker Potoski
When I was little,
You were my protector.
I called...
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as I ride the elevator, the door opens,
two men, one grey-haired, the other red-haired,
dressed in immaculate...
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In our Japanese Poetic Forms class, we studied the haibun form. It is an inspiring event in the...
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The lone poplar tree has watched over
the back yard for fifty years.
It has been a haven...
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Airport runway lights
smashed again
we wait
for the sun
cold coffee in paper cups
torn night
draped...
by
breeze over empty shoes
whispers stories from those
who the land gave
lowered flags on stone buildings
hush
...
Read more: Kisikisotowaw Awasisak
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Half-way through
the old argument I study the recipe
on the Pacific Evaporated Milk can
harvest milk and...
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If you want to learn to live
truly
fall in love
with one who is dying.
...
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I crunch my boots into the snow,
stare at the daffodil shoots,
which struggle to bloom soon,
attempt...
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Yanni’s my black and white tuxedo cat.
He’s christened after Uncle John, our friend.
He supervises birds from...
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When it’s springtime in the Valley
Here is my advice to you
Stay inside, the wind is blowing
...
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The practical reason for building
the Hundred Stairs
was to create a shortcut
between Third Avenue and uptown...
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Why can’t I be happy with how I look?
Why do I wish for her...
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The long, slow climb to the highest branches stretching into an open sky.
Focusing on the ground, a...
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Lynn’s maple tree
was always the last to emerge
from winter’s sleep,
when it burst into leaf,
the...
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Free verse on the page that
is my tongue; raw flesh,
smooth and thin, dipped
in blood-tinted ink—
...
Read more: The Scream That Is Also a Song
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Our very first visitor was a cat.
Corkie came for a day, adopted us.
He soon had his...
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a grey woodsy coloured house
stands abandoned
in the midst of a haunted wood,
its windows are broken,
...
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She went into the woods to find
the wolf that haunted her
She went to the brook to...
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My forest dances on the wind, swirling above the green and brown copsewood. Above, branches split, held up...
Read more: Be Leery Of What Falls From Above
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I paint with words
I see
the pink tinge of fluffy white clouds
at sunset
I see
my...
by
turquoise water of the lake
stretches for miles,
as far as the eye can see
two spruces wave
...
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Vultures gather on the old man’s neighbor’s barn,
‘decorated with ravens and barren trees.
A small cottontail stirs...
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I shiver in the darkened room,
stretch, try to pull the covers higher,
suddenly I am floating near...
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So glad it rained last night. Now, late morning, sun shines,
an unexpectedly warm early March. What a...
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For eons now, the very core of my being
has become inaccessible.
Solitary.
Once it used to be...
by
I’m grateful that I have a daybed
downstairs where I can rest during the day
with my Guinea...
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1.
Love is a beast and angel and dream on fire.
2.
Your soul wakes in your dreams.
...
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…apologies to St. Patrick
Creative Spirit with me,
Creative Spirit before me,
Creative Spirit behind me,
Creative Spirit...
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As I rummage through the clothes,
I spot it, the well-worn white sweater
that now had aging spots...
by
We have a large holly tree
in our backyard—
is it foolish to say
you love a tree?
...
by
rain beats against the metal awning.
winds whipped up against two storms
racing each other over the Mississippi
...
Read more: waiting on an email
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