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Frank Wagner sends his poems to the Howe blog from his home in Texas. He’s a retired radio newsman. Going Home After Basketball By Frank Wagner Going home after basketball practice meant walking home in the dark. During those months, after the thrill of starting school in the steaming heat…
Read More »This month Trasna is featuring writers participating in Words Ireland National Mentoring Programme. Every year, 22 emerging writers are selected for the program in the areas of literary fiction, creative non-fiction, children’s/YA fiction, and poetry. Each are paired with mentors. Featured this week is poet Billy Fenton. On participating in Words Ireland, he…
Read More »This month Trasna is featuring writers participating in Words Ireland National Mentoring Programme. Every year, 22 emerging writers are selected for the program in the areas of literary fiction, creative non-fiction, children’s/YA fiction, and poetry. Each are paired with mentors. Featured this week is poet Martina Dalton. On participating in Words Ireland,…
Read More »Our sensibility recognizes the divine in Nature and Ceremony. With vision and voice, Fergus Hogan’s lyrics intensify the connection and set it afire. ****** FERGUS HOGAN READS FROM ‘BITTERN CRY’ ****** Three Stones for a Decision there’s a path through the woods round the lake where I pray that I…
Read More »Ill Wind by Jacquelyn Malone The wind whines wild and compulsive, spreading instability across the land. Shamelessly it contradicts itself, whipping—demented—in one direction, then reversing itself along an already trashed path. No one can forecast a steady state: the wind, a pompous blowhard, has no firm compass, diving into low…
Read More »(web photo courtesy of juneautours) Glacier by Tom Sexton We stood on the deck of a ferry at dawn fifty years ago and felt the cold breath of a glacier that was mirrored in the icy water. Harbor seals disappeared as we approached. When the air…
Read More »On the Thirtieth Day of Isolation (Covid-19) Marie Louise St. Onge Just over four weeks now, no store no pharmacy no haircut no meetings no movies no museum no protests no handshakes no hugs no gym simply solo walks along the shore. Respite indeed when I pull in…
Read More »April Snow by Chath Piersath Saturday morning snow Intense white and shouting birds In a swarm competing for seeds and warmth. The night—dream-shaped flight, Forced to dig my own grave Where death sleeps, Cold feet slow to warm, My bones frost bitten, Aches in all my joints, Spasmodic jumps,…
Read More »“Gov ordered statewide lockdown until April 7. Nonessential biz’s to close physical operations. We are really in this now.” —from a 3/23/2020 email from Paul Marion, writer and Loom Press founder We Are Really In This Now By Emily Ferrara At Swamp Locks Dam on the downstream side the Great…
Read More »The Barbarians Have Arrived After Cavafy by Tom Sexton After a few centuries of patiently waiting outside the city, the barbarians have finally arrived and taken over the Capitol. When did they realize our Republic was rotting from the inside like an overripe pear? Who thought they’d…
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