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Poetry Inspired by the Little River Poetry Festival 2017
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Poetry Inspired by the Little River Poetry Festival 2017

15 October 2017 | admin | Poetry

Poetry was all around at the festival and it inspired poetry in turn. Here are some of their writings, inspired by the festival surroundings and the workshops they went to.

A Quartet of Poems by Serena Fusek

I.
The muse walks the meadow
bare feet scraping through the dew
sky blue as a loved one’s eyes
in the wren’s song
the voice lost
into the light.

II.
Sun sparkles on river’s rushing beck
swallows circle the dark cliffs
and a cardinal sings.
Suddenly the day
falls into a present
of a sky blue as wonder.
The river rushes away
as Jack wades back to us.

III.
I left my blood on Buffalo Mountain –
washed the wound in the spring
as swallows chased yellow butterflies
across the road.
It’s all good.

IV.
Wandering down the dim aisles
of the antique store,
I find a collection of cobalt stemware
he would have loved,
and a book of photos –
“Nijinski Dancing”
Margaret would have opened
the minute it was put in her hands.
I leave the items on their shelves –
their new houses need no possessions.

Little River Poetry Fest On The River

Summer is here,
the grass is green,
(and this field is equipped
with a high-tech latrine!)

Birding with Sarah
Bidental voiceless fricative
indigo bunting
labiodental voiced fricative
common grackle
bilabial voiceless stop
blue-headed vireo.
Thank you, Sarah!

The Wonderful Soul of My Friend by Eva Poggi

(from the Rondelet Workshop)
That’s who you are!
A relaxing wave from the heart.
That’s who you are!
An endless poem written down,
a world that needs to speak it.
A full universe opens up.
That’s who you are.

Three Haiku by Judith Stevens

I.
We come together
in the blue-striped tent where
kindness, poetry rule.

II.
Float down the river,
mind your p’s and q’s, but write
a good kayak poem.

III.
There is magic here!
See how love and poetry
knits us together.

Four Cackalacky Poems by Jack Callan

I.
The skunk on Route Eight
won’t wait
for the stink rebate!

II.
Conspiracy theorists
cook the books,
armed to the teeth
with anger issues.

My wife and I
are on either ends
of the house,
writing.

III.
When tent is empty,
field is dark.
Moon enters
field.

IV.
Jack takes over the electric thoughts
who, he himself, has had a few –
like remembrances of black vulture wings
(knowing they are a couple,
though might not kiss as much as we),
and though the peepers have given
false signals in the constricted Spring,
it bodes well for a romantic walk.
in the cacophony of slimy things,
ourselves not included,
but hey, it’s only just begun,
and since the woods will always remember us,
we will return, united, excited, and all the rest…

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The Little River Poetry Festival is a retreat for poets to enjoy the beauty and scenery of Floyd, Virginia for a weekend in June.

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