The Way the Light Slants

By Silly Tree Anthologies

A photo really is worth a thousand words. We at Silly Tree Anthologies challenged poets to write a poem based on the image of a wooden swing like the one that graces the cover of this book. We didn’t want poems about swings though; we wanted poems about the feelings porch swings invoke, the memories they bring back and the heartache they conjure up. The poets did a wonderful job.

We are sure you will agree once you read the work featured in this anthology. The poems will draw you in and pull at your heart strings. Please enjoy “The Way the Lights Slants,” the third Silly Tree Anthology.

Authors: June J. Austin, Beebe Barksdale-Bruner, Lorri Barrier, Jinny V. Batterson, Wayne-Daniel Berard, Linda Beatrice Brown, Joseph Burrows, Guy Burtenshaw, Jan Chronister, Rita Coleman, Vicki Collins, Sarah Cooper, Liz Dolan, Frederick K. Foote Jr., Eve Gaal, Jennifer Gibson, Mel Goldberg, J.M. Green, Francis Hicks, William D. Hicks, Alan Kemister, Mario D. Kersey, Brenda Kay Ledford, Shahé Mankerian, Ashley Memory, Scott-Patrick Mitchell, Amy S. O’Hearn, Richard Pacheco, Carl "Papa" Palmer,
Kathy L. Price, Wren Robin, J. E. Robinson, Tom Robson, Mary C. Rowin, Wendy L. Schmidt, Marian Kaplun Shapiro,
Jane Shlensky, Claude Clayton Smith, Olivia Lee Stogner, Jill Story, Mary Vallo, Art White, Heather Wyatt

• Language: English
• Publisher: Silly Tree Anthologies
• Release date: Nov 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311821355

Silly Tree Anthologies

Silly Tree Anthologies began as the brainchild of Angel Sharum who wanted to find a way to give new authors a chance to be published alongside more seasoned authors. Since two heads are always better than one and publishing can be expensive, Angel decided she needed a partner for the venture. After searching for a while, Cathy MacKenzie volunteered to join her. Scared Spitless is the debut anthology for Silly Tree.Despite what may look like an easy feat, there is a tremendous amount of work put into a project such as this. Angel and Cathy must promote, weed through the submissions, arrange for editing and work with the editor, review the “finished” product numerous times, organize and format the books, deal with authors...well, you get the gist. However, to steal a cliché, this is their labor of love. They have both wanted to do a venture such as this for several years.Both Angel and Cathy are avid readers and writers. Between them, they have had numerous writings published and both maintain an active internet presence, with their blogs and Facebook author pages.Please visit and like Silly Tree Anthologies' Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Silly-Tree-Anthologies/153970521418247. And spread the word to aspiring writers for a chance for future publication with Silly Tree.

Book preview

Mourning

Eve Gaal

Mother

Mel Goldberg

Elysium

Lorri Barrier

Daddy’s Girl

Mario D. Kersey

Seascape

Mary C. Rowin

When Running

Sarah Cooper

What Good is a Pigeon, Anyway?

Jennifer Gibson

Mask

June J. Austin

autumn leaves unfulfilled

Carl Papa Palmer

Aspirations

Alan Kemister

Unlikely Marriage

Francis Hicks

Kites and Bubbles

Jinny V. Batterson

The Paver Garden

Beebe Barksdale-Bruner

Front Porch Memories

Kathy L. Price

Fourth Generation of Swingers

Tom Robson

The Importance of Chores

Mario D. Kersey

I Gave Away Your Clothes

Mel Goldberg

Marginalized People

Shahé Mankerian

Sitting in Front of My Vanity

Heather Wyatt

O’Bannon Creek Speaks

Rita Coleman

Divinum Mysterium

Jane Shlensky

Coaxing Thomasina

Jennifer Gibson

A Picker’s Elegy

Jane Shlensky

For the Dream Impresario, for Edward Hirsch

Ashley Memory

under trees

William D. Hicks

Rolling

Vicki Collins

The Old Oak

Brenda Kay Ledford

Write-In

Beebe Barksdale-Bruner

When the Earth Moved: Two Perspectives

Jinny V. Batterson

Dream Chorus

Mary Vallo

The Places of Our Sorrow

Olivia Lee Stogner

No Better Than I Was

Art White

Great Grandmother Maude’s Funeral

Heather Wyatt

Home

William D. Hicks

Cardiac Event, a Canticle

Mary C. Rowin

Sun Sense

Mary Vallo

Piece of Paradise

Wendy L. Schmidt

Firefly

William D. Hicks

Miss Him

Art White

One Man’s Treasure

Wren Robin

the most important year

Scott-Patrick Mitchell

The Porch

Vicki Collins

Ceaseless Verse

Brenda Kay Ledford

Parla Inglese?

Ashley Memory

Empty Handed With No Key

Linda Beatrice Brown

The Way the Light Slants

Rita Coleman

Walking Sticks

Jan Chronister

Calm in My Thoughts

Guy Burtenshaw

Garden Variety Love

Jane Shlensky

Hyatt Mill Creek

Brenda Kay Ledford

Southern Realities

Sarah Cooper

War of Regret

J.M. Green

Return to Childhood

Mel Goldberg

By Night

Jill Story

No Call in the Night is Friendly

Art White

Haw River Morning

Ashley Memory

Blindsided by Beauty

Liz Dolan

Stills

Beebe Barksdale-Bruner

The Well

Liz Dolan

Sweet Charioteers

Jinny V. Batterson

Prayer to the Midwest

Joseph Burrows

the ride

Carl Papa Palmer

just barely almost

Wayne-Daniel Berard

Waiting

Marian Kaplun Shapiro

Intent

Richard Pacheco

Victorian

Wendy L. Schmidt

My Mother Said She’d Miss Me

Amy S. O’Hearn

Runaway

Jan Chronister

Perfect

Eve Gaal

Nostalgic Scroll

Heather Wyatt

Ending, Beginning

Rita Coleman

Pleasant Dreams

Mary Vallo

Balancing Act

Jennifer Gibson

Dreams in Black and White

Frederick K. Foote, Jr.

Let’s Sleep Under the Stars

Mary C. Rowin

Aphorism

Claude Clayton Smith

Planting Ground Lake 1957-2007

Jan Chronister

Neap Tide

J. E. Robinson

Phantom Bus Stop

Shahé Mankerian

Biographies of Poets

About Silly Tree

Mourning

Eve Gaal

That metaphor stood to remind me

This pain might last forever.

At least it would last through my lifetime.

Old logs last hundreds of years

becoming petrified.

That’s what I feel like.

There’s a massive rock pounding

Under my ribcage and though it’s keeping me alive

it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.

The sapling grew,

reaching to the sky—

it laughed and swayed—

until the axman changed her life.

Changing a tree into an object used by happy families

Still distresses the tree.

Mother

Mel Goldberg

When the rain wets the streets

between the low brick houses,

and the oil-burning stove

tries to warm the pale green room,

my Sheffield mum leaves her book and walks to the kitchen,

a soiled apron covering her cotton-flowered print dress,

and turns off the fire under the copper pot of burnt potatoes

whose water has long since boiled away to nothing.

In the hazy glow of a gray day,

she stands, short and plump, at the window

looking for my father,

staring toward the endless sea of tenements,

wondering what the night will bring,

a prisoner of what once was life

but has become routine.

She thinks about the rotted screens

and windows that let in the cold.

Then, humming a childhood lullaby

heard only by the mice,

she thinks about a youth

across the sea, and shrinks from the darkness.

Elysium

Lorri Barrier

Your absence has a long arm,

reaching into unexpected places,

evoking emotions too jumbled to name.

My throat tightens at the memory of

your thin hands on wood,

measuring, marking the exact place to cut.

Your greeting each morning as I passed,

a hand thrown in the air,

a familiar gesture of recognition.

Your lean shape in cap, coveralls, work boots

walking the pasture at dawn,

me on my way to school

so early, mist clung to low places

in the little valley, where daisies grow in June.

I never thought of you as old.

You didn’t fuss over me,

ask me to eat more beans,

wear a warmer coat

or be real careful

doing things I’d always done.

Much of the time you were silent.

When I think of you, there are no

profound phrases. Instead there is the soft

movement of patient grass waiting to become hay,

the suction of our shoes in muddy puddles,

the smell of burning brush, sawdust, and gasoline,

the sputter of the ancient tractor, struggling to start.

During your