The consistently excellent magazine of the ALSCW, Literary Matters, has just released its latest issue, which includes, among many, many other items, a poem of mind, called "Sloth." This is the last in my series of four Sapphics to be published. It begins,
When autumn came, my grandfather set up
Behind a metal desk in his garage,
With slender ballpeen hammer and curved pick
….. To hull and crack
The acrid mound of tennis-ball-sized husks
From which he freed those gnarled piths of black walnuts
Gathered beneath our trees the weeks before
….. And meant for this.
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