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House of Sparrows

By Betsy Sholl Poetry

What if every time we saw the word sorrow we switched it to sparrow? ——-For my life is spent with sparrows… ——-With drunkenness and sparrows… Or if it went the other way, the song would be, ——-His eye is on the sorrow…. § My eye’s on the neighbor’s eaves, and the copper-roofed house we put…

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Create in Me a Clean Heart O God

By Leslie Williams Poetry

The thing I did for sorrow was silence. The thing I did for sorrow, the thing I did, the silence. I thought when replacing the pillow under the sleeping girl’s head it’s been a while since kindness. When my mother was sick I didn’t go I rolled over in my own bed I thought she…

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Romanian Orthodox Choir

By Ewa Elzbieta Nowakowska Poetry

This chasm. Quite simply, the abyss. Gale in a sultry church. Out of the dark the voices of seraphim. A beauty impossible to bear. A theology of opposites: in Christmas hymns this sorrow like a lidless coffin. Humble, the unknown soloist folds his hands and bows his head in gratitude for the applause. Suddenly we’re…

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Sometimes It’s Easy to Know What I Want

By Julia Spicher Kasdorf Poetry

On a road that cuts through the richest, non-irrigated land in the nation, according to some Lancaster, PA, natives, a minivan slowed, and a woman with a good haircut yelled, Do you want a ride, or are you walking because you want to? I didn’t reply because my life felt so wrecked— no matter the…

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Cyprian Variations

By A.E. Stallings Poetry

A. The heart is a divided city Between two alphabets. Church bells, minarets Betoken Time has stopped where it is broken. Nothing forgets. This is called history, not pity, It is not spoken. B. To remember is to cross Through no-man’s land Into an imaginary country You do not recognize But where the streets are…

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