Category Archives: Literature

Lessons from a master 1

Posted on January 1, 2020 by alicebarrett

Basho Spring passes and the birds cry out – tears in the eyes of fishes   Me Where summer walked oaks stand naked over crusted rivulets  

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Prayer Written during President’s State of the Union Address

Posted on March 5, 2018 by alicebarrett

Okay, I know You’re around. No need for me to worry or to seek or to sing psalms. You’re around. Don’t get all poetic on me about You being reflected in everything I see. Or that You dwell in every … Continue reading →

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Stay tuned….

Posted on December 5, 2017 by alicebarrett

I’m working on the final draft of my first book. Crowds are waiting for release: I’m working as fast as I can.

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What Is New to Me Now, at 68

Posted on October 20, 2016 by alicebarrett

(Annual Greenfield Word Festival 2016) . What is new to me now, (don’t bother me with cell phones, legalized weed), . What is new to me now is constant war with no intervals of peace, What is new to me … Continue reading →

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The News I Fear

Posted on July 28, 2016 by alicebarrett

Slugs are not much loved. Maybe God loves slugs, But who knows? .. One day in the garden, no slugs. Next day, slugs. .. The invisible destroyer becomes solid, Well, almost solid; It’s a slug. .. Rare is the animal … Continue reading →

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Time Does Not Repeat Itself

Posted on March 22, 2016 by alicebarrett

Oh no, time does not repeat itself, It spirals, perhaps, one turn reverberating on the others, But time does not repeat.   Nature’s variation is endless, Orderly, yet endless.   Everything done will be undone.   Everything undone waits for … Continue reading →

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The Wound

Posted on June 21, 2015 by alicebarrett

Rupture breaks through the skin, Bleeds, leaves a gash, cools. Comes to rest. On my back the cooled flow Creates a ridge, a gap. I watch the searing glow solidify, A map of its path across flesh. I scratch the … Continue reading →

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What It Is

Posted on June 17, 2015 by alicebarrett

What a Tree Is “Beloved, gaze in thine own heart, The holy tree is growing there….” Yeats Nothing is just what it is. Look at that tree. See centuries of meaning on its bark, Put there by poets since cave … Continue reading →

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The Bridge in the Woodland

Posted on December 23, 2013 by alicebarrett

It came out of nowhere, that bridge, A rusted anomaly in trees that had devoured the fields before Metal bridges began. . Along we come, A rusty Bondo-ed auto that should be a memory, but Lives beyond its time. . … Continue reading →

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Sounds of the Sun

Posted on December 12, 2013 by alicebarrett

Trembling below hearing, we would notice only if it stopped. Startled, we would stop, naked of the sound we wear as skin. Throbbing like the heart of someone we love far away. Low mountains of sound vibrate against the snow. … Continue reading →

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