Summer 2016: Poetry
In that beautiful moment —
as the cranberries burst
their clear crumpled clamshell, go shooting
[radially, radiant, spoked and speechless]
along the ground —
as they hang in frozen perfection, downward-bound:
here I am. Riding the chilly glare on Sand Hill Road
in backpack and helmet. The impact —
not falling but flung — propels a serene arc.
In that crackled momentary thought, I knew: This
[my shoes seared into brilliant sky]
might be the last thing.
Then the berries strike and time — the string of moments —
recollects and rights itself. Each reddened pixel
resolves, turns around — rolls on.
A sampling of the powerful female creative force thriving in our region.
Six women dazzle us with both their honesty and humor.
Four artists use layering and process as metaphors for life beyond art.
Meet the fabulous women behind the voices and visions of our ninth issue.