Contents: Janet Taylor (2), Linda Barrett
Jan. 19, 2012, submitted
SESTINA, 1991 Definition of sestina
Well I’ve finally gotten all the decorations up in my room
Above the bureau stands my Georgia O’Keeffe print.
The map collage I made last April stands beside the mirror.
Above my desk lies the wall hanging my old boyfriend brought back from the Peace Corps.
Yeah, it’s finally beginning to feel a little like home.
But I wonder what people would think of it, especially you.
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I’d really love to show it to you.
I spend so much time in my room anyway.
But even if it doesn’t quite feel like home,
I really enjoy looking at my Georgia O’Keeffe print,
And looking at scenes from the Peace Corps,
But probably spend too much time in front of the mirror.
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I like the fancy chestnut wood border around the mirror.
It’s woodsy and it kind of reminds me of you.
I wonder if it looks like wood from the baobab tree he saw in the Peace Corps.
It really matches the earthly feel of the room,
And complements the blue green of the Georgia O’Keeffe print,
And makes me feel more at home.
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I got a call yesterday from Mom and Dad, my original home.
I see so much of myself in them it’s like looking in a mirror.
My Dad grew up near barns like those in my Georgia O’Keeffe print.
My mother would really like what I see in you
The way she likes how I decorate my room,
So far away from Africa and the Peace Corps.
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No one from my family has ever been in the Peace Corps.
They all kind of stuck close to home
And put a lot of effort into decorating their rooms,
And found more to think about in the mirror than in the world,
And didn’t travel so far to find the world as you,
And didn’t live in ways as exotic as the colors of my Georgia O’Keeffe print.
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Sometimes I just want to step into my Georgia O’Keeffe print
Or travel far and see other people’s homes in the Peace Corps
But I don’t think I’d be so good at traveling as you
I need to feel anchored in a stationary home
And relationships that act in part like a mirror,
With people I’d be comfortable to show to my room.
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Maybe if I painted my room the colors of my Georgia O’Keeffe print,
Or used my journal and art as a mirror while traveling the map in the Peace Corps,
I’d come as close to feeling at home as I am when I’m with you.
- Janet Taylor, Philadelphia
October 1, 2011, submitted
THIS SWEET SAD NIGHT
This sweet, sad night to me brings souvenir
Of you and love together once we shared.
Still, lilting breezes, low, lend breath to dear
Remembered relics, sentiments once aired.
The flow’ring plants, though hid by night’s dark veil,
Spread scents as sweet as long gone reveries.
The animals, though screened by shade, prevail;
Their murmurs, soft, sing mellow memories.
But zephyrs soft, becoming wind, will whirl
And soothing cadences to noise succumb.
And though Apollo’s morning star unfurl
To brighten black skies, you’ll not homeward come.
Yet, in the dark of my soul’s gloomy night,
You’ll shine, enshrined, with golden, star-like light.
- Janet Taylor, Philadelphia
SEPTEMBER 11, 2011
Whatever happened to the country
unified -
singing Patriotic songs on the Capitol steps
Republicans and Democrats holding candles
swaying side by side?
Whatever happened to the everyday heroes
who fought hijackers on airplanes
pulled bodies and survivors out of World Trade Center rubble?
Whatever happened to one nation under God?
Everyone praying for our nation
proudly waving our flags
weeping on street corners
showing our vigilance against terror
Instead of all this infighting,
Why can’t we forget we’re Liberal Democrats and Tea Party Republicans
and act like one country indivisible with liberty and justice for all!
- Linda Barrett, Abington, PA