Rabbits with Wings*

September 17, 2017

2017 Walk Award
By Amelia O’Connell, 8th Grade

Rabbits with wings flying up through the sky,
Catching the carrots that fall from the trees,
Deep in the forest live rabbits that fly.

Sometimes the rabbits will eat a fruit pie,
Carrots get boring after a while,
Rabbits with wings flying up through the sky.

When you hike through the forest a rabbit hops by,
Hiding its wings as it hops past your feet,
Deep in the forest live rabbits that fly.

Regular rabbits eventually die,
Magical rabbits live long happy lives,
Rabbits with wings flying up through the sky.

You may think, when that little rabbit hops by,
That it lives in burrows deep under the ground, but
Deep in the forest live rabbits that fly.

Someday, if you’re on a hike, you should try
Looking for rabbit nests up in the trees,
Rabbits with wings flying up in the sky,
Deep in the forest live rabbits that fly.

. . . . .
*Copyright 2017 by Amelia O’Connell. Broadside illustrated by Megan Carroll.


on poetry

September 16, 2017

“Prose is a museum, where all the old weapons of poetry are kept.”
T. E. Hulme
(September 16, 1883 – September 28, 1917)

. . . . .
poet photo


September 10, 2017

2017 Merit Award
By Jim Milstead

She looks outside,
     when the first green sprouts of spring will appear.
The grey streets are streaked with with rain.
if her friends would like to come inside to play

Nearby the white-haired woman, brush in hand,
     faces an empty canvas,
     wonders whether she should join the other marchers
to change the world.

. . . . .
Jim Milstead was “Born in Chicago. Moved to Fresno, CA. Entered the Marine Corps, occupying northern China. Graduated from Fresno State College. Worked at the Linear Accelerator in Livermore, Ca. Entered graduate school, spending 35 years as a biological control researcher at UC Berkeley. Moved to Bellingham in 1992. Now I write.” He is author of the poetry books Collage and Scenario.

. . . . .
*Copyright 2017 by Jim Milstead. Broadside illustrated by Christian Smith.

on poetry

August 31, 2017

“The poet should above all else love language.”
Raymond P. Hammond
(b. August 31, 1964)

. . . . .

on poetry

August 29, 2017

“I sit down and I simply wait to see what’s going to occur to me, and whatever occurs to me, I write it down and then I try to follow that as though it were a conversation.”
Christopher Howell
(b. August 29, 1945)

. . . . .

on poetry

August 22, 2017

“I hate writing, I love having written.”
Dorothy Parker
(August 22, 1893 – June 7, 1967)

. . . . .

Migration Season*

August 20, 2017

2017 Walk Award
By J.R. Lara

This is the room I was born in.
All red terra cotta tiles and green light
from the vinca-twined mountainside.
So close
you can reach your hand through the window
lay it to this cliffwall flat
like you are saying stop or hello or I surrender.

. . . . .
J.R. Lara is an environmental journalist and an MFA candidate at Western Washington University. She was a contributing writer for Green Fire: A History of Huxley College (2011), and is Nonfiction Editor at Bellingham Review and Poetry Editor at Psaltery & Lyre. Her poems and essays have appeared or are forthcoming in River Teeth, Hippocampus, Eastern Iowa Review, and elsewhere. She lives with a handsome composer and a dashing poodle in the Sunnyland neighborhood.

About “Migration Season”: The room in this poem is real, and could be found, if you knew what to look for, in a century-old house near a covered bridge and a mulberry tree in the foothills of the Delaware River Valley.

. . . . .
*Copyright 2017 by J.R. Lara. Broadside illustrated by Mat Hudson .

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