Here, there’s no circle, only the spiral, endlessly turning back on itself. No straight lines, only curves, coiling, looping. There’s…
Barbara CrookerSeptember 1, 2016
JANUARY 2012: POETRY by Barbara Crooker The goldenrod's tarnished and dull, gone to rust, as the Dow Jones plummets…
Barbara CrookerOctober 30, 2014
MARCH/APRIL 2014: POETRY by Barbara Crooker Liturgy for March So, here you come again, scratching the ground with your thin…
Barbara CrookerMarch 1, 2014
NOVEMBER 2012: POETRY by Barbara Crooker NOVEMBER This tufted titmouse at the feeder, all perky peak and bright eyes, is…
Barbara CrookerNovember 1, 2012
AUGUST/SEPTEMBER 2008: POETRY by Barbara Crooker Prayer in Autumn Turn me to gold, Lord, burnish me; strip me of chlorophyll,…
Barbara CrookerAugust 1, 2008
