Sometimes, I Am Startled Out of Myself, Barbara Crooker like this morning, when the wild geese came squawking, flapping their rusty hinges, and something about their trek across the sky made me think about my life, the places of brokenness, the places of sorrow, the places where grief has strung me out to dry. And … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 11/06/2015 – They turn to gold for a brief while, then lose it all each November
Tag: Barbara Crooker
Praying with Fringes 10/07/2015 – the grass glitters greenly, freshened by last week’s rain
Leaf Light Barbara Crooker Leaf by leaf, the trees let down their gold; everything returns to dirt: stem, bark, twig. The corn stalks have dried to papery whispers, speak a new language in the wind’s harsh breath. It’s October, when leaf means loss, and bird means go. Today, the grass glitters greenly, freshened by last … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 10/07/2015 – the grass glitters greenly, freshened by last week’s rain
Praying with Fringes 1/26/2015 – the snow in great sheets across the yard
The Slate Grey Junco Barbara Crooker with his immaculate bib, sooty jacket, bobs in the snow for sunflower seeds. Caught between two needs, hunger and shelter, he keeps coming back, even as the arctic wind which has howled all day shuttles him like the cock in a badminton game, wind that rattles the windows, shakes … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 1/26/2015 – the snow in great sheets across the yard
Praying with Fringes 03/05/2014 – with his immaculate bib, sooty jacket
Barbara Crooker will be reading at Big Blue Marble Bookstore in Mt. Airy on Sunday, April 6th 2014 at 1 pm. Come meet her and hear more of her marvelous poetry The Slate Grey Junco Barbara Crooker with his immaculate bib, sooty jacket, bobs in the snow for sunflower seeds. Caught between two needs, hunger … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 03/05/2014 – with his immaculate bib, sooty jacket
Praying with Fringes 11/11/2013: Sometimes I am startled out of myself
Sometimes, I Am Startled Out of Myself, Barbara Crooker like this morning, when the wild geese came squawking, flapping their rusty hinges, and something about their trek across the sky made me think about my life, the places of brokenness, the places of sorrow, the places where grief has strung me out to dry. And … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 11/11/2013: Sometimes I am startled out of myself
Fringes: a feminist, non-zionist havurah 