Marge Piercy is an American activist, novelist, and poet. She has written almost 20 novels and close to 20 volumes of poetry. Her writing addresses class, feminism, social, and environmental issues. Piercy and her husband, Ira Wood, run Leapfrog Press. This poem uses the word “phlogiston.” I had to look it up. Phlogiston theory refers to the belief by 18-century chemist that all combustible bodies contain an element called phlogiston that is released during combustion. This theory led to experiments that ultimately helped scientists to discover oxygen. Talent is what they say you have after the novel is published and favorably reviewed. Beforehand what you have is a tedious delusion,…

Well, here we are. Another week, another poem, and no other posts. Moving is a lot of work. Hopefully, once we are settled in our new location I will have the mental energy to do more than share poems. In the meantime, enjoy today’s selection. Begin by setting the instructions aside. Instead tune the mind to flight. Attach the huge, clunking wings (treat like hangar doors) - do this by lantern light; now heave them wide. Next, place the heart inside - adjust to beating; You may witness a sudden upwards surge as the chest swells - this will be fleeting - resist the urge to release; now, embed the…

We went to the beach today and it was lovely. We are trying to squeeze in last visits to all our favorite places before we move and the beach was one of the top items on that list. There is nothing like the smell of the ocean, the feel of the sand, and the sound of the waves. It is a recipe for perfect peace. I started Early - Took my Dog - And visited the Sea - The Mermaids in the Basement Came out to look at me - And Frigates - in the Upper Floor Extended Hempen Hands - Presuming Me to be a Mouse - Aground -…

Sara Teasdale was an American poet who lived from 1884-1933. Her poetry is described as lyrical and she is known for her clarity and subtlety. In 1918 she won the Columbia University Poetry Society Prize which became known as the Pulitzer Prize for poetry. The roofs are shining from the rain. The sparrows tritter as they fly, And with a windy April grace The little clouds go by. Yet the back-yards are bare and brown With only one unchanging tree-- I could not be so sure of Spring Save that it sings in me. April Sara Teasdale Brona has shared a poem this week.