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She Waits

By Dan Bellm Poetry

———-Looked for her in the unseen—in the play of air ———-against the edge of ———-what appeared to be— a child’s laugh in a neighbor ———-yard could recall her, ———-only to call her back into what had passed—sought ———-her in dreams, but she ———-waited at one side in the not to be dreamed of ———-yet, neither…

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Tuesday: Rhubarb, Lattice Crust

By Becca J.R. Lachman Poetry

Three things you can’t control: life, death, and children. Lord knows, you’ve tried. Good God knows, there’s holy risk just beyond the farm lane’s bend. And the paper and the radio shout of doom-oh-doom-oh. Yet you can force certain things to taste as you expected; you can bake brave resolution into rhubarb, its stiff pink…

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Karen Laub-Novak: A Catholic Expressionist in the Era of Vatican II

By Gordon Fuglie Essay

IN COLD WAR-ERA AMERICA, one of the more remarkable cultural developments was the efflorescence of visual arts programs in colleges and universities. This unprecedented expansion from 1945 to 1990 was launched even as most Americans remained indifferent, skeptical, or hostile to the rise of modern art. The upsurge in academic art programs attracted artistically inclined…

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Venetian Villanelle

By Robert McNamara Poetry

She is a mother first—in every church she lights a candle for her harrowed son. One already lit supplies the match. Today San Stefano, above her stretched a heaven of dark keel vaulting. Here an icon, Byzantine, true presence in the church of the second Eve, the mother she beseeches. She gives a euro to…

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