We All Hate to be Alone

By Johnna Ferguson

This poem was  published in the first Segullah anthology, The Mother in Me, 2008. we all hate to be alone, oh my child. i feel your heart knock against my hand, your shrieks to my shushes, i am here, yours, so sleep in your little bed. you may let go of the world, it is here, …

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By Kelly Moore

Mamihlapinatapai A look between two people that expresses unspoken but mutual desire–Fuegian language Eyes articulate with a clarity that mouths envy,  but glances cannot be cataloged like phrases—tucked away in tidy files in locked rooms—  They evaporate like dew, dissipate into air like curling tendrils of steam, cooled by the brain with a breath. Silence …

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Book Review: Mother’s Milk

By Elizabeth Cranford Garcia

What do we really know about Heavenly Mother? What sources do we have for our belief in her, other than the logic of latter-day leaders and our own desires? In the face of these problematic questions, Rachel Hunt Steenblik, in Mother’s Milk: Poems in Search of Heavenly Mother, attempts to understand Her, to make Her …

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By Sarah Dunster

When new, ungracious winds trouble the waters and I worry I’m growing smaller in your eyes, come lay your hand on my twisted hip and be, with me, the days when our tomatoes grew wild and red, and babies breathed sweetly on our faces. If memory doesn’t serve to bring it perfectly, let me say …

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To Toss or to Keep: Haiku on Decluttering

By Linda Hoffman Kimball


Since last March I have been sorting and culling through my belongings. This is primarily because of selling a home and moving after decades of accumulating “stuff.” Systematically trying to see what “sparks joy” also sparks ennui, longing, regret, trepidation and sometimes laughter. It’s enough to drive a person crazy. It’s a stark face off with childhood naivety and the realities of years of life’s complexities. It ties you to generations back in time and makes you wonder about the next generations for whom artifacts pale in comparison to digital records and thumb drives.

It is necessary. It is brutal. It is wrenching.

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