Browsing: Poetry

The Mother I kept them close when they were young. The boys could roam as far as the mulberry in Schiozzi’s yard qnd the empty lot by the East River. They’d wrestle in the grass, send spitballs across the dinner…

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What Mother Means Clara Lemlich young Ukranian immigrant gave a Yiddish speech I’ve Got Something to Say after the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire 20,000 immigrant women all joined to make a union all those women at last night’s Clara Lemlich awards…

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Octogenarian Sips Glass Half-Full When I walk down the street, a stream of smiles rolls towards me like a school of rainbow fish. I guess I must wear quite a grin. My style’s just Carpe diem – blow and make…

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We Women Three “Oh no,” my daughter and I gulped in unison as we saw the slack elastic of my mother’s folded underpants. Stained blouse fronts, gaps of stitching in side seams of thirty-five year old dresses run out of…

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Heaven Halloween was my mother’s favorite holiday. My youngest brother was quite a pro gathering candy and money at a time when it was safe to go into strange buildings. Starting with the building nearest, he would fan out in…

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