Having Just Met
Between them, a myriad of broken shells— pecans, a bowl of them to be exact. His hands,
Between them, a myriad of broken shells— pecans, a bowl of them to be exact. His hands,
We used to sit on the porch when it rained, And my mother drank IBC Root Beer. They were special, not meant for me,
New poet interview plus a double poetry giveaway, Reese Witherspoon gets her first audiobook, Toni Morrison on racism, the Alabama Writers Symposium this weekend, plus a poem about rain and root beer. Happy Literary Friday!
The Virginia-based poet talks about her new book, 'Spans,' which combines old poems with new, and credits the Southern masters for her love of language.
The old truck bumped and I now envy my dad knowing how to fix it up. How to turn the dials and crawl under,
There were no sounds when the first 10,000 men died Or when 20,000 men departed this life