The Common Good

Its been a privilege to highlight poetic voices over the last few weeks. As this emphasis draws to a close, I thought it’d be wise to wrap up The Common Good on a strong note, so that’s what I’m going to do.

Allow me to introduce Maureen Doallas. Her debut collection Neruda’s Memoirs: Poems was published in 2011 by T.S. Poetry Press. Her poem about bottle trees appears in Felder Rushing’s most recent book on the subject. Other poems have appeared in Open to Interpretation: Water’s Edge, an anthology of photography, poetry, and prose; the charity anthology Oil and Water. . . And Other Things That Don’t Mix, sales of which benefit communities along the U.S. Gulf Coast affected by the 2010 BP oil spill; and at Every Day Poems, TweetSpeakPoetry, The Victorian Violet Press & Journal, the online charity anthology Quakebook, Poets for Living Waters, the sad red earth, Escape Into Life, and Red Lion Square. She was a Finalist for 3 Quarks Daily‘s 2011 Arts and Literature Prize, for her poem “Consider the Pomegranate”. Her interviews and features have appeared at The High Calling, TweetSpeakPoetry, and The Systems Thinker.

An avid collector of art and fine press books, Ms. Doallas posts daily at Writing Without Paper, primarily about poetry and other literary, visual, and performing arts. She was a features writer and editor for more than three decades, working in such diverse fields as international healthcare, education, and employment law, until her retirement in 2007. She owns a small business, Transformational Threads, which sells custom, limited-edition hand-embroidery of licensed images of original fine art. She lives in Arlington, Virginia.

Thank you very much, Maureen.

Brokered Words

The frost hasn’t finished
with the kill. There’s time,
 
still — to feel the ground
give while you silver full
 
into too-late middle years,
your nights, murmurous
 
discontents, startling
their way into your deepening
 
sleep. Claim what is restless
to last, even as your sight
 
like a snow cloud thickens,
and your breath, exhausting
 
its missed but heart-paced
rhythms, catches on these,
 
my brokered words of love.
 

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5 Comments

  1. Lyla Willingham Lindquist on March 21, 2013 at 1:00 pm

    Beautiful, Maureen.

  2. Maureen on March 21, 2013 at 3:13 pm

    Thank you so much, Lyla. I was honored when John asked me to contribute.

  3. debatterman on March 21, 2013 at 6:16 pm

    Maureen is a very gifted poet . . .

    • Maureen on March 21, 2013 at 7:17 pm

      Thank you, Deborah. You do some pretty mean writing of your own.

  4. Christie Purifoy on March 22, 2013 at 12:30 am

    I know I’m encountering an incredible poem when I first read it, immediately read it again, and then, again, a third time, hardly aware of what I’m doing.
    This is gorgeous.

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