Poetry

Geology Theology

by Susan Whelehan
We humus-honed flesh-toned matte-finished mortals dwell on the dome of a miracle: a sparkling and…
Poetry

Bounty

by Susan Whelehan
The tossed salad at our Soup Kitchen starts with lettuce from the Community Garden, planted…
light streaming through gold autumn maple leaves
Poetry

Autumn

by Susan Whelehan
Autumn. What is that silent “n” all about anyway? It should be dropped quietly, like…
Poetry

Ode to the Onion

by Susan Whelehan
I open the front door and walk headlong into the oh so heavenly scent of…

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