Monday, June 19, 2017

You Know You Want To~ Treat Yourself to a Weekend Writing Retreat

Join us for our 7th year of poetry and community
I look forward to Poets on the Coast weekend every year. The energy is always positive, productive, and a little bit magical. Each September (this year 8th-10th) we bring together a group of women that are creative, energetic, and always kind. You can come, too. Ages rage from twenty-something to seventy-something. Women who consider themselves poets or not, women from all walks of life, and all different parts of the country (sometimes the world).

We also offer scholarships to women who otherwise would not be able to take a weekend to write. Besides the beauty of the small town, the river, the art museum and the women --- women write in community --- usually leaving on Sunday afternoon with a sheath of poems to begin a book or simply write until the next Poets on the Coast comes around.

Space is limited and we have only a few spots left. If you have never been to a writing retreat before, this is an excellent one to begin with as the support (one-on-one conferences and lots of special treats) makes us especially receptive to newcomers.

Thursday, June 15, 2017

Emily Frago --- wonderful poet new to me --- The Sadness of Clothes


How to tell this suit that their owner is gone 

This poem appeared yesterday at the Poem-A-Day site and it captures something that I think so many of us have experienced. For decades after my father's death, I wore his 100% cotton V-necked tees --- wore one particular one until it became more gauze than shirt.

As for my mother's clothes --- after she died they ended up as part of an estate sale. Somewhere in the Boston area there is a hipster wearing her monogrammed dresses --- a proud LSD --- over the bosom.

Here is Emily Frago's poem for a powerful take on what happens between the one left behind and the clothes of the beloved after they are gone.


The Sadness of Clothes

Emily Fragos

When someone dies, the clothes are so sad. They have outlived
their usefulness and cannot get warm and full.
You talk to the clothes and explain that he is not coming back

as when he showed up immaculately dressed in slacks and plaid
jacket
and had that beautiful smile on and you’d talk.
You’d go to get something and come back and he’d be gone.

You explain death to the clothes like that dream.
You tell them how much you miss the spouse
and how much you miss the pet with its little winter sweater.

You tell the worn raincoat that if you talk about it,

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