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Dec
02
2021

Literary Arts Section :: Page 3

  • First Lines — ‘While tottering …’

    In this month’s poem, villager Janeal Turnbull Ravndal meditates on marriage, aging and the loss of balance, leading to new forms of grace.

  • Book Fair returns Saturday, Aug. 17

    The 39th annual Yellow Springs Book Fair will be held Saturday, Aug. 17, 8 a.m.–4 p.m., on the grounds of Mills Lawn.

  • First Lines — The world of objects

    What do objects want? This month’s poem by Reilly Dixon enters the world of objects.

  • First Lines — Of memory, hiding and identity

    What happens to those who came before us also happens to us. In a poem by villager Maxine Skuba, world history and personal history touch hands.

  • First Lines — The magic of small forms

    This month’s poems come from longtime villager Rubin Battino, who has been writing three-line poems for decades. “We hit it off,” he said of the short form, his own adaptation of haiku.

  • First Lines — The hide and seek of happiness

    “There’s just no accounting for happiness,” begins a poem I love by Jane Kenyon. Happiness in this poem is a gift, a grace, as it seems to be in this month’s poem from musician Carl Schumacher.

  • A page turns for Antioch Writers’ Workshop

    The page has turned for a beloved local literary institution with deep roots in Yellow Springs.In a March 22 press release, the board of trustees for Antioch Writers’ Workshop  announced the workshop’s closure after 33 years.

  • First Lines — The season of firsts

    Spring. We become aware of it not just by the calendar, but more viscerally by signs. By firsts, as in this poem by local writer and teacher Ed Davis.

  • First Lines — The freedom of poems

    There is enormous freedom in a poem. It is the same freedom found within the human mind. This month, a poem, or a spacious poem-prayer, by villager Moriel Rothman-Zecher.

  • First Lines — In memoriam: Mary Oliver

    Mary Oliver is the lovely, lambent consciousness of every poem she wrote in praise of heron and hawk, windflower and black oak, lightning and first snow. It is she who went out into the world, she who scribbled notes.

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