tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7578454697877614703.post8119303366117748817..comments2023-05-31T10:47:00.444-04:00Comments on Poetrepository: PapaMary Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078793537148794310noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7578454697877614703.post-14605405841793069912016-04-16T20:20:14.185-04:002016-04-16T20:20:14.185-04:00Amazing. He IS real. And speaks such truth. I f...Amazing. He IS real. And speaks such truth. I feel that these poems are just meant to be read and read. This whole project is stunning. I know I keep saying it, but... xxAmy LVhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16625469276544426664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7578454697877614703.post-33244399401105745632016-04-16T10:17:01.382-04:002016-04-16T10:17:01.382-04:00It has been so fun to see how you two have been pl...It has been so fun to see how you two have been playing off each other's work here. I agree with Carol, Mary Lee, these characters are becoming very real.<br /><br />Carol, love the sense of lost possibility in your poem and yet it also has such a sense of dignity.Steve Petersonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07307772474856131942noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7578454697877614703.post-85128057193410130322016-04-15T05:11:25.585-04:002016-04-15T05:11:25.585-04:00Sigh. The price of adulthood. And the curse of far...Sigh. The price of adulthood. And the curse of farming the arid dry plains.Mary Leehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09078793537148794310noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7578454697877614703.post-31198459712767486282016-04-15T00:47:36.280-04:002016-04-15T00:47:36.280-04:00Almost didn't make it tonight.
"Glory Ye...Almost didn't make it tonight.<br /><br />"Glory Years"<br /><br />In those days I was<br />captain of the team<br />master of the ball<br />my confident smile<br />forecast weekend plans--<br />a win on the basketball court<br />followed by a chocolate soda<br />spinning the stool to face<br />my latest conquest<br /><br />Today I am<br />captain only of scorched fields<br />I spin grains of parched wheat<br />in dry, cracked palms<br />joy has been eclipsed by weather,<br />worries, and prayer pleas<br />for rain, a plentiful crop<br />one more year of plenty<br /><br />When did it go awry?<br /><br />(C) Carol Wilcox, 2016Carolhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13294455230627182656noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7578454697877614703.post-76737118072627630752016-04-14T07:27:34.871-04:002016-04-14T07:27:34.871-04:00I am in love with him, too -- a trumpet-playing, V...I am in love with him, too -- a trumpet-playing, Valedictorian...farmer. I'm working with my students on creating complex characters, and I guess some of my own lessons have sunk in!Mary Leehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09078793537148794310noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7578454697877614703.post-11616563024482127222016-04-14T06:28:09.428-04:002016-04-14T06:28:09.428-04:00So he's really not a real person?? Because he ...So he's really not a real person?? Because he feels really real to me. I want him to be real. Carolhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13294455230627182656noreply@blogger.com