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Sin Fronteras Issue #21 is Out

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As one of the poetry editors for Sin Fronteras/Writers Without Borders Journal, I am very happy to report that this year’s issue is now out.

sf 210001The cover art is by Tom Holland (www.tomhollandsouthwestart.com)

This issue includes poetry by:
Michael Berton, Zoë Bird, Terry Blanchard, Janet Cannon, Blair Cooper, Beth Copeland, Erin Cummiskey, Ruth Deming, Claudette Franzoy , Grace Marie Grafton, Richard Green, Kenneth Gurney, Lois Marie Harrod, Lisa Hase-Jackson, Terry Hertzler, Diane Kendig, Sandra Kolankiewicz, Jane Lipman, Nadine Lockhart, Eileen Malone, John Mannone, Jayne Marek, Carolyn Martin, Angela McCabe, LeeAnn Meadows, Mary Oertel-Kirschner, Marilyn O’Leary, Simon Perchik, Claire Scott, Michael G. Smith, Joseph Somoza, Joanne Townsend, Frank Varela, Phyllis Wax, Sarah Brown Weitzman, Michelle Wing, and Matt Zambito

And prose by Reuben Sanchez, Robert Joe Stout and Bill Vernon.

We think we’ve got some good writing here.  To find out more, go to http://www.sinfronterasjournal.com.

Happy Equinox

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A few photos to celebrate the arrival of spring.

P1000949I tried to plant something else for the winter in this pot.  It didn’t make it.  These violas don’t care whether it is winter or spring.

 

 

 

The iris came through very well this year:

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They have a cozy corner which gives them a good head start on the season.

This volunteer jumped into bloom when I wasn’t looking.  Another case of the comfort of a wall.  P951 volunteer

And then the poppies.  They turn up wherever they please.

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It’s a new year, astrologically.  A more sensible time for new beginnings, I think, than January 1.   In this spring quarter of the year I hope to have more than photos to put on this blog.  I also hope  these photos make you smile.

The Year Keeps Turning

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Just two weeks ago we had a storm which left the mountains looking like an ice sculpture.  I don’t think we’ll be seeing any more of that this year.p1000941

Now we are half way from the solstice to the spring equinox.  For my favorite cross-quarter day I lit a new white candle in honor of Brigid, goddess of poetry and smithcraft (and all things fiery, I suppose).

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The Pennsylvania groundhog may see six more weeks of winter, but here in southern New Mexico the trees are beginning to bud.  We’re in a stretch of fine weather for walking and hiking, and I’ve just seen my first poppy.  It was in a protected spot along a wall and only half open, but there it was.

What can be said about poppies?

Gluttons for sun,
they shine it back,
closing at night.

They pop up,
not in the same spot,
new every spring.

Poppies.  Spring.
Nothing more
to be said.

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas

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. . . it’s time to start taking down the ornaments.  We had a unique ornament for the top of our tree this year.

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Is it a star?  Is it an angel?  Maybe it’s both.

This year we also decided, after many years of having no lights outside, to join local tradition and put out luminarias.

p1000936Thanks to son Jack for getting them properly staked among the rocks.  It was quite a job to get them in, and today, on the twelfth and last day of Christmas, it was another job to get them out.

Today begins the season of Epiphany – the light coming into the world – and we are watching for light coming sooner in the mornings.

More from Bali

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A broken hip and rehab are part of the reason it has been so long between posts.  I still have a good number of thoughts about and pictures of my visit to Bali which I hope to share.

Rather than eat breakfast at the restaurant at my hotel, I read about several coffee shop type places a few blocks away.  This gave me a chance to learn something about the neighborhood as I walked out and back each morning.  I found that religion, mostly Hinduism, is omnipresent.

There are temples in the middle of town, enclosed and not open to foreigners.

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More intimately, households often have shrines and put out offerings in small paper “dishes.” In one case these offerings were made to a statue of Buddha.

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Some households or shops have Hindu shrines where offerings are set out.

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Sometimes offerings like these are placed on the sidewalk in front of a door.  One must pay attention to where one walks – however the unevenness of sidewalks already made this necessary.  Construction sites and debris also made the route I took less than elegant. I learned that “Ati Ati” means danger, as in “danger: construction zone”.  The Balinese script is found in some museums, but has elsewhere been replaced by the western alphabet.

In a shop at another site, the offering was placed on top of fruit for sale, making it safe from missteps by passers-by.

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These offerings must fade quickly but I rarely saw one that looked bedraggled.  They are clearly important to their makers.

 

 

First Report of First Trip to Bali

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I have been back from Bali for over a month and am still sorting photos and impressions.

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It is a place of lush growth and smooth beaches and lots of people.  There are many impressions for which I have no photos.  One is the traffic.  Streets always crowded, more motor bikes than cars, but not a lot of horns. Drivers take turns at intersections.  People are generally considerate.  (This trait makes them good at hospitality, and tourism seems to be the main industry.)

One common activity for both locals and tourists is visiting temples at sunset.  We went to Tanah Lot, which stands on a promontory a short distance from the shore.

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We were fortunate to arrive there at low tide.  Beyond this entrance one walks down over water-worn rocks to see the temple rising above.  (Temples, being active worship sites, are not open to foreigners.)

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Afterward, we tourists go back and up the hill to buy drinks and watch the tide come in and the sun go down.

tl-tideThere were few tourists and a long row of shops with tables and chairs offering a good view.

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This describes one late afternoon in a seven day visit.  A very short time, and there was much we did not see, but watch for more installments of what we did see.  As I said, I am still sorting my impressions.

Poems on Line

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I have three poems in a brand new online journal, the Ibis Head Review

http://www.theibisheadreview.com/eryoung-sep2016.html

The three poems, “Burned” “Pulled” and “Congruent” are poems I want to include in a book manuscript which includes some very personal poems about my childhood, education and parenting.  (These three fit that later section.)

“Pulled” for example begins,

Tulips are intractable, the wedding florist
says, “They bend as they please,
don’t use them.”

The poem describes the years of a couple largely, not entirely, like my own marriage, and ends:

Fingerprints washed from door sills,
the wall reattached to the flooring, she
discovers they bend toward each other.

I have a second reason for liking this publication.  The masthead for Ibis Head Review uses the Egyptian hieroglyph of an ibis (not, fortunately, just his head).  I have a fondness for all things pertaining to ancient Egypt.

Have a look.

 

 

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