These are voices on the margins.
But they are central to us all, in a very real sense.
It is a magazine of sincerity, honesty, truth and fulness.
Enjoy some snippets here below …
From Dianna Henning
(1) TO BORROW RADIANCE
Sometimes it’s so subtle
It’s mistaken for something else.
A moth tumbled from night’s porch light
A stone in the heel of your shoe.
Even a tattered corner of sunshine is better
Than believing it’s never found.
Didn’t the widow, stripped in grief
Reveal pure angle of cheek bone—
Hadn’t she, at last, set her face free?
You’d gladly peel off that expression
Smooth it down over your own years
The radiant tucked behind ears.
Under some circumstances
Beauty is mistaken for grief.
But in the widow’s case, the opposite—
A face so clear it revealed her soul—
Enlargement emerging from loss.
The moth was a small god on the porch
The stone, nugget of an angel.
(2) ACROSS FROM MY…
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