Poetry

A Football Poem by Mike McCormick

Two Kids and Their Dad Attending High School Football  By Mike McCormick Even as we stepped out the front door into the welcoming late morning sun to climb into the jeep for the drive to the high school game, Dad, my brother, and I anticipated the hours when we would…

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New Poem by Doug Sparks

Dog Walk at Harold Parker By Doug Sparks We walk in the woods when I should be at work. Walk — that’s a word easily defined — Unlike work — of the hours and the days. Shadowed by Diogenes (I’ll spare your looking him up — an Ancient Greek, He…

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Paul Marion: A Poem

Catching Perfect Spirals Trees change at night to yellow, orange, brown. On warm afternoons my friends and I, boys and girls, Raced downfield to catch every perfect spiral. We tackled each other as if trying to hurt one another When all we wanted was to be good at what we…

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“Woodbines and Tall Tales” and “A Christmas Wake” by BERNIE CONDON

Throughout October, Trasna will focus on the Celtic festival of Samhain, better known to Americans as Halloween. The holiday originated in Ireland and celebrates that time of year when the veil between this world and the next grows thin, and life seems more mysterious. This week we feature two poems by Bernie Condon, as…

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Paul Marion: A Prose Poem

Although I was born in Lowell (est. 1826), in the Centralville section, I grew up in Dracut (est. 1701) from the age of two through my college years. My neighborhood’s colonial-era name was New Boston Village, but that wasn’t used when I was there. We didn’t have a name for…

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