Poetry and Art










CYNTHIA IN THE SNOW by Gwendolyn Brooks


It sushes.

It hushes

The loudness in the road.

It flitter twitters

And laughs away from me.

It laughs a lovely whiteness

And whitely whirs away,

To be

Some otherwhere,

Still white as milk or shirts.

So beautiful it hurts.



Pearls by Rene Parks


We are like pearls,

Precious for the grit.

Each grown in the

Belly of a clam.

Clam bellies clenched

Tightly against the tumult.

Forcing our shape

From calcium carbonate.


Pike, catfish, bass

Swirling, tossing us.

With the force of their fins

We, sheltered by nacreous

Walls supported by a

Terse tongue. Alone, we

Brace against the current

Growing together


While apart our relative

Density brings us

Closer to wholeness

Shopped out by our families

Pregnant vessels drift

Toward the sea

Homeless and salty.

Fearing the force of change.


The essence of

Our divinity.

Awkward aberrations.

Lumpy and pinched

Lonely hearts until plucked

Lips pried apart. Luminiscent

And strung, we sit glowing

Cultured, side by side.


Majestically affected.

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