I’ve been running behind schedule on many things lately, but want to take the time to thank the editors and journals who have published poems during the past few weeks:
The Lake: Until We Reach It
Via Negativa: Ghazal with second thoughts
Via Negativa: Ghazal with an abundance of water
Via Negativa: This Cold Ache
Via Negativa: Before the Harvest
Via Negativa: By yon bonnie banks
Whispers: More, Please
Visual Verse: We Picked a Bad Time
Verse-Virtual: three poems (Chenin Blanc, Confirmation: Poem ending with Matt. 18:4, & Poem with a refrain borrowed from Mozart)
Also grateful to have a collaborative poem written with Saddiq M Dzukogi at Whispers: Bookmarked
Thank you for stopping by, and for taking the time to read. Deeply appreciated.
The Ark of Identity 
These once in a while updates have been helpful to me a whole lot. They help me keep in touch with you and the voices in your writings at a glance. They also ensure I don’t miss out of any of your great stuffs at all. Thanks for these updates. You inspire, Halima.
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Thank you for stopping by, Ehi. Sincerely hope your health begins to improve.
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It has to. The morrow, I mean Thinking Tomorrow needs it. Sound health.
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…and the internship opportunity…and first, before all that, YOU. Prayers and good thoughts your way.
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Laura, enjoyed all of these on rereading, but somehow had missed “Until we Reach It” Had to copy it out and save–you say so much we need to hear in this poem–that in the exhaustion of spirit from all the loss and grief we suffer, it is each other, the love and generosity we offer each other, that redeems and heals and lets us go on, perhaps to offer the same healing to another!!–how we may “dance our dead” and keep on living, and dancing!
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Thank you so much for stopping by to read, Mary. “Until We Reach It” was a very important poem for me. When I was in that exhausted place, Heath “held a space” for me…celebrated some recognition I’d received in the form of Pushcart nominations when I felt too much exhaustion and grief to ever imagine feeling joy again at that time, and had nothing left in me to properly appreciate the honor given. Heath celebrated on my behalf, and sent me encouraging messages. When a friend of Romeo’s was taken from life early, and grief had taken Romeo to a similar distant and disconsolate place, I wanted to pass on the gift that Heath had given me, the promise that hope and joy return, and so I wrote “Until We Reach It” for them both.
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