Two Poems By W.R. Green
Soul food 4 lost souls the neon flashed
How To Talk With Mom
God can’t make too many different kinds of people, she sighs—her own prolific way to
Paper Dolls
mint julep statues bulbous as cauliflower stand guard over marble columns tipping wafer hats
Having Just Met
Between them, a myriad of broken shells— pecans, a bowl of them to be exact. His hands,
Rain and Root Beer
We used to sit on the porch when it rained, And my mother drank IBC Root Beer. They were special, not meant for me,
Elizabeth Seydel Morgan Reflects on a Poetic Career
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.