Autumn Greetings!

All active or aspiring poets are invited to attend this informal gathering to re-connect with wild nature through the art of poetry. As always, bring poetry to share, your own or a favorite poet’s, or a relevant prose reading. After sharing we’ll split up to wander, gathering observations and inspirations, or find a special spot to sit and write. Then we’ll re-converge for more sharing or just to talk. Don’t forget writing supplies, drinking water, shoes for hiking, a blanket or camp chair (optional).

Michelle Obama Park is part of the South River Forest and currently in legal limbo pending the outcome of a lawsuit over a controversial “land swap” with a movie studio. But the South River Trail that passes through the park is open and so far the natural landscape is unaffected by the lawsuit.

For our workshop we will meet where the Trail crosses Sugar Creek on its way to the river. Park at the elbow where Cottonwood Drive SE turns a corner and becomes Will Rogers Place. You’ll cross a narrow stretch of grass and turn right on the paved walking path. Very soon you will come to a pedestrian bridge across the creek, and just beyond it you’ll see a bench on your left. We will meet there for our sharing time.

Note that we are again meeting on a Saturday instead of Sunday. Click here for directions. I look forward to seeing you!

p.s. To join my Earth Poetry Workshop email list, email me at swing1027@gmail.com.

Photo from the South River Trail: Rasheeda Elamin                      *

                    

                      from

                      Washed in the Hurricane:
                      Poems for an Endangered Paradise

 

                       Lightning’s Compass

                       With every flash and flicker of the sky
                       I glimpse another few steps
                       of the trail back to my tent:
                       this slow pilgrimage between the trees
                       without a flashlight –
                       fork to the left, jog to the right,
                       slippery downgrade, low-hanging branch –
                       like my life sometimes,
                       the chain of epiphanies lighting up my path,
                       and the pitch-dark
                       between