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Giving Voice: Poets perform and discuss
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Author Archives: Dale Hobson
Dead Mailbox Daydream
It’s such a relief, when coming back to town after a couple days away, to find the house still atop the cellar hole, with no trees come through the roof or any evidence of fire damage, that it takes a … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry
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Wanting the Storm to Break
I was feeling agitated the other night. It was an old familiar feeling of confinement, constraint, that 30 years of sobriety has not erased. But later, when I began to hear the storm in the distance, I realized it was … Continue reading
Cinders
Over time, most people begin to revise the past a little, romanticize it, pretty it up. I may do so myself when I come to the later 1960s, but my memories of the ’50s and early ’60s seem to come … Continue reading
As April Comes
The hinge of the season is an interesting time. Not the one, not the other, but blending both. Its own thing, really, were we not so ingrained in our dualisms. April only seems a cruel month if you have no … Continue reading
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Beyond our Power
While I have never seen the creator behind creation, and have no information to impart about what it all means and how it all ends, I feel that creative force whenever I look upon the beauties of creation. And never … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry
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News of the World
Photo: Apostoloff, Creative Commons, some rights reserved. The other day I fell into the war news and couldn’t climb back out. While I should have been in meditation in my Tai Chi class, rockets and bombs were in my mind. … Continue reading
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Watching Snow
Watching snow fall and blow outside the window is a winter pleasure — standing in the kitchen while coffee brews, while bagels brown. There’s something soothing in the constant downward flow like bathing in fast water, in a world obscured … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry
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New Year dreams of spring
In some ways my property looks like the aftermath of battle. Blow down, cut-down, deadfall, invasive species, overgrowth, old farm ruins. But snow covers many sins and cold weather gives the armchair general a perfect chance to game out his … Continue reading
How Everything Didn’t Change
Terry called me just after the second tower fell. My first words to her were “We’re going to war.” And of course we did, several times over. The catchphrase was “Everything changed after 9/11.” But it all looked like business … Continue reading
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