On my commute today, I saw a deer in someone's back yard and slowed and the deer saw me and started running for the road and so I moved on but noticed a car behind me so I stopped so the car would stop but it just slowed and then the deer came flying across the road and I yelped but I think the one car didn't hit the deer.
From Mary Ruefle's essay, "On Erasure": "art--it is a private journey; we can be inspired and we can be influenced, but the predominant note of any journey must be found in the quiet unfolding of our own time on earth."
Poetry books I have purchased recently: Canticle of the Night Path by Jennifer Atkinson
Hot Flash Sonnets by Moira Egan
I am also reading Donna Vorreyer's A House of Many Windows and getting ready to write a review of this fabulous book.
A couple of acceptances recently.
From Toad, by Diane Seuss
Do you ever
wonder,
in your heart of hearts,
if
God loves you, if the angels love you,
scowling,
holding their fiery swords,
radiating
green light? If your father
loved
you, if he had room to love you,
given
his poverty and suffering, or if
a
coldness had set in
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