Fallow Ground
A Mind of Winter by Cordelia M. Hanemann
Cold crusts barren branches; the mind of winter comes. What I have known recedes, as trees surrender leaves. Little remains. Names I’ve sworn never to forget, precious words, coveted over…
Fallow GroundThe Pull of Weeds by Cordelia M. Hanemann
One day in July, I bent to pull weeds in the garden, to lift a large stone; I bent at the waist and lifted, to move a large stone, to…
PoetryAcorns: An Invasion by Cordelia M. Hanemann
clatter of acorns peppers a machine-gun fire barrage across the bow of my deck, by day, by night, until I think enough –surely there are no more acorns left in…