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We listen to the wind in the pines rise, - Weebly.com
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We sit on the cabin porch and rock,
recalling what these two years have stolen. Precious friendships, adventure, peace of mind. Our innocent, thoughtless trajectory through space and time. We listen to the wind in the pines rise from whisper to roar, then subside. A lone frog sends its “Ribbit” over the dark pond, Hope rippling out into the universe. “I am here. Where are you?” After a few unanswered minutes, you say, “Someone should kiss that frog.” I squeeze your hand. Thirty-eight years together, but why count? Each moment a signal sent, and, when we’re lucky-- answered. Again, the frog croaks. Silence. A third call. And then what we hope for-- another frog responds. |
MJ Moore lives in the San Francisco Bay Area. Her various incarnations have included technical writer and editor, grassroots environmental activist, first grade teacher, poet and flash fiction writer, wife, and mother. Strongly bicoastal, she thrives on salt air, wind and waves, but also loves mountains, deserts, forests and streams. Writing, for her, is a source of vision and joy. Her poem, “Cello Suite,” was previously published in Bach in the Afternoon, Poems from the Blue Light Press Summer 2018 Workshop.
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Vistas & Byways Review is the semiannual journal of fiction, nonfiction and poetry by members of Osher Lifelong Learning Institute (OLLI) at San Francisco State University.
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Osher Lifelong Learning Institute at San Francisco State University (OLLI at SF State) provides communal and material support to theVistas & Byways volunteer staff.
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