“...gripping the rim of the sink you claw your way to stand and cling there, quaking with will, on heron legs, and still the hot muck pours out of you. (p. 27)”
“...gripping the rim of the sink you claw your way to stand and cling there, quaking with will, on heron legs, and still the hot muck pours out of you. (p. 27)”
Barbara Blatner
“blue-gold sky, fresh cloud, emerald-black mountain, trees on rocky ledges, on the summit, the tiny pin of a telephone tower-all brilliantly clear, in shadow and out. and on and through everything everywhere the sun shines without reservation (p. 97)”
Barbara Blatner, The Still Position: A Verse Memoir of My Mother's Death“...gripping the rim of the sink you claw your way to stand and cling there, quaking with will, on heron legs, and still the hot muck pours out of you. (p. 27)”
Barbara Blatner, The Still Position: A Verse Memoir of My Mother's Death“oh. she heard it too-no waters coursing, canyon empty, sun soundless- and the beast your life nowhere hiding (p. 103)”
Barbara Blatner, The Still Position: A Verse Memoir of My Mother's Death“once ruffle-skirted vanity table where I primped at thirteen, opening drawers to a private chaos of eyeshadows lavender teal sky-blue, swarms of hair pins pony tail fasteners, stashes of powders, colonies of tiny lipsticks (p.39)”
Barbara Blatner, The Still Position: A Verse Memoir of My Mother's DeathAll in One Creative & Marketing Platform to tell stories at scale
