by Alice Nine | A9 Journal, In My Classroom |
#SOL16. No.28. Melted snowflakes Maple-wood smoke Hints of cinnamon, cardamon, cumin In the mysterious Old Country That no one knows anymore Every winter a hundred years long Every spring a miracle Water like music, music like water In the Old Country Whose name and...
by Alice Nine | A9 Journal |
#SOL16, No. 27. Easter Sunday 2016 I am he who lives, and was dead, and Behold, I am alive forevermore. Amen. Revelation 1:18 This I believe. A foreboding darkness Covers the land Jesus hangs On a cross As life ebbs He cries It is finished Bowing His head He dies The...
by Alice Nine | A9 Journal |
#SOL16, No. 26. I have been following Mark E. Weston’s Heartland Series, stories from his boyhood. His writings are making me pause and remember. So for my slice today, I’ve written a poem remembering Easters of my girlhood. My title, Easter Past, borrows...
by Alice Nine | A9 Journal |
#SOL16. No.25. Yesterday, I published a memory from my first grade year — “The Day My Teacher Died.” Today I am writing a piece that is a snapshot of my thinking as I crafted it. However, before I begin unfolding my thinking, lest my narration...
by Alice Nine | A9 Journal |
#SOL16. No.24. Prologue: This is my true story. The account is completely accurate. Names have been changed and a detailed added, but I will share more about that tomorrow when I write about the writing. The cat. It was a big marmalade cat. When I see a marmalade cat,...
by Alice Nine | A9 Journal |
#SOL16. No.23. It is the very error of the moon. She comes more near the earth than she was wont. And makes men mad. William Shakespeare, Othello Sharon and I sit in the Brian Center dining hall with Mick, waiting for his dinner tray. Mick, in the final stage of a...
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