Language of Landscape

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A Poem by Rivera Sun Learning words for landscapeplace-terms in the language of geologyan incantation linking my wayward soulwith tenterhooks and spiderwebshair-thin roots and curling pea shoot tendrilsanchoring my humanity to this earth:tuckamore, vly, chockstone, fen. Can you feel the wilds awakeningwithin you at their sound? Stirring like spring,fertile and feral:hummock, loess, nickpoint, pediment,oxbow, portage, riprap, scarp. […]

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Sing the Body Politic, Electric

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Recently, I traveled by train across the US in a swaying, creeping journey that took me through the backyards and forgotten corners of our country. Here, you see the America that doesn’t make it into the slogans of presidential campaigns. These back alleys are not evoked by the statistics and demographical jargon politicians use to […]

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Mother’s Day Poems

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Happy Mother’s Day to my incredible, artistic, courageous, wonderful mother, Kate Simonds! Bouquets of Mother by Rivera Sun My mother, Kathryn, a name standing tall on two feet strong like the black coffee she drank. My mother drove tractors and wrangled five children through chores last minute homework breakfast cereal dish duty and onto the […]

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Bread and Roses Strike begins Jan 11 & 12, 1912

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This week is the 104th anniversary of the Lawrence Textile Strike that later became known as the Bread and Roses strike. On Jan 11th and 12th, 1912 women working in the textile factories of Lawrence, Massachusetts walked out en masse and started a two month strike that would later become known as the Bread and […]

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Old Grandmother Soul

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If you want me, wait. My soul is speaking like an old grandmother, taking her time, rolling pearls of wisdom around in her mouth, then slowly releasing them off the tip of her tongue. Her voice rasps and gravels run ragged with time, lean in to listen or her message sweeps past your ears like […]

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Solstice Poem – Ancient Times

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Ancient times ago, before the birth of written words the world hunkered down between the grip of winter and waited, humans half-hibernating, sleepwalking through long frigid nights, and brittle glass days, curling into woolens like corkscrews, conserving energy for the great burst of spring. All winter, we rested, pulled in tight to our cores, replenishing […]

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