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Issue Date:  February 8, 2008



I came to the trailhead
intending only to snowshoe.

All night snow had fallen
and wind had blown

around and between the old
spruce and ash that line

the trail, as if an aisle up
to the altar of a chapel

you open a heavy door to,
intending only a glance,

not to kneel and pray
for anything or for anyone.

I stood a long, cold while
looking down that trail

to where in fall, leafed out
in aspen and birch, it

flattens into prairie, a hill
in heat-hazed distance,

high grass, an oval of light:
a place to pause, catch

your breath, not intending to
drop knee deep in snow

for everything, for everyone.

-- Chet Corey
    Bloomington, Minn.


Sandhill cranes squawking
bold sunrise salutations
while flying in sync

-- Kathleen Wardach
    Edgewater, N.J.

In My Garden

I sit in the sunlight --
is too bright for me to sleep
in its warmth.
The chair gently holds me
and the street noise is far away.
Even so, I would sleep ...
a poem comes --
one that does not fathom
my need for rest.
is also too bright
in its warmth
I shut my eyes
pulling a shawl of light
tightly around me.

-- Sr. Lou Ella Hickman
    Corpus Christi, Texas

Note to poets: Short lines preferred. Poetry is published in a newspaper column only 35 characters wide, counting punctuation and spaces. Submit poems to Poetry, NCR, PO Box 411009, Kansas City, MO 64141-1009, or e-mail at poetry@ncronline.org.

National Catholic Reporter, February 8, 2008

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