Paschal Lamb
and maybe it will be a promised land when values can run wild
and trump the Trumps everywhere
Lenore's collections include "Tap Dancing on the Silverado Trail" (2011) from Finishing Line Press, “Sh’ma Yis’rael” (2007) from Pudding House Publications, and "Cutting Down the Last Tree on Easter Island" (West End Press, 2012). Her writing has won recognition from Poets&Writers (finalist in California Voices contest) and as a finalist for Pablo Neruda Prize, Nimrod International Journal. The Society for Technical Communication has recognized her work regarding Technical Literacy in the schools. All material is copyrighted on this site and cannot be used without the author's permission.
and maybe it will be a promised land when values can run wild
and trump the Trumps everywhere
City people, take notice. If you think country-living is laid back, easy-going, a ramble in the woods, you may be in for a surprise.
Finding a good hair stylist is almost as difficult as finding a good mate. Much of it is about chemistry.
For years I didn’t like either one of you, felt I was returning the favor— the baby, an annoyance, an inconvenience, the one you dragged… Read More »Sisters
Violets getting pushy on front lawns. Redbud trees pink against winter’s bare branch. Irises swell in bed, such proud mamas. Butterweed give yellow a new… Read More »Spring in Louisiana
She looked at the clock. She was expecting him to come through the door at any moment. After all, it was getting close to 7:30… Read More »Date Night at the Half & Half: Rae-Ann (5)
One summer Domino did get covered with fleas and Rae-Ann did just what her auntie had told her. By the time Domino shook herself dry,… Read More »Vernon and Rae-Ann (4)
But Eudora wasn’t the only one who shared their private business with Rae-Ann. Maybe it was because there was something in the way she presided… Read More »Billy Goat Gruff: Rae-Ann (3)
Every morning after she had switched on the lights and turned up the thermostat of the Half & Half, she thanked Earl for taking such good care of her. He had been a good man; after his funeral, all the store regulars had mailed her condolence cards in tones of silver and violet that she arranged on the fireplace mantle, and for the first few months, touched each one as she walked in circles from the living room to the kitchen.
She got in the van and finished putting on her lipstick, something she rarely did in the car, but Mondays gave her an extra oomph. Of course, all her best friends shook their heads, “Just wait. Give it another year and you’ll wish you were back home again.”