Barbara Loots
At the Gate
The garden says Bring order.
The field says Let me be.
The clematis likes fences.
The milkweed wanders free.
Around the bedded lilies
the artful pathway goes.
But where the edge of day is
only the prairie knows.
Returning to the Island
These are the trees we hang the hammock on.
There is the spot where Billy caught a pike.
The hearth that our father fitted stone by stone.
The smoky old lamp our mother used to like.
Here are the chairs, no two of any kind.
The model boat with its musty sail half-mast.
There are the tools and nails we left behind
to fix the neglect from summer seasons past.
Somewhere we'll find the coffee, matches, keys.
Everywhere, mice will show us where they've been.
Under no nearer, wiser stars than these,
everything dies, and something grows again.
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Fifth-Anniversary MC Reading
West Chester University Poetry Conference
Friday, June 10
8:15 AM
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| Alice Mizrachi: Growing up in New York, I have been immersed in a culture that is constantly growing. Throughout my work you can feel the influence the city has had on me, the never-ending desire to grow and flow. One common thread in my work is the texture--rhythm and layers. I love to incorporate tactile surfaces that compel the audience to approach and feel it. Timeless and universal, my images evoke a raw feminine energy that leaves you feeling nurtured. My art is a vehicle to express to the world my journey as a NYC female artist in the past, present and future. I am logging my time here. After completing a residency in Paris during 2010, I am focusing on residencies in other cities with the intention of spreading my art globally. | |
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The poems of 
