e c l e c t i c a
s p e c i a l f e a t u r e
e c l e c t i c a
s p e c i a l f e a t u r e
In an ongoing series, the editors, former contributors, and readers of Eclectica have been invited to write a poem containing four pre-chosen words. The words for this issue are park, sugar, storm, and river.
If you would like to participate in the next special poetry assignment, the new words are saw, deserve, grass, and heavy.
(These are excerpts—click on the title to view the whole piece!)
Instead of rivers there was a dry creek
bed or two, seasonal or occasional
Rebecca Dempsey
After dinner, can you tell me about
What did your mother grow in her garden? Red radishes.
Maggie Fulmer
The live ones—nobody wants the dead, but,
really, this applies to them too—are just
accidental scatterings
Jennifer Dunn
honey, you are handsome,
with skin the depth of mountains
and hair imperfect like the Mackenzie River
Alison McFarlane
The wind washes loose leaves away
like the sleeves of my dress
after a long service
Susanna Skelton
When the rain came, the river became an ocean,
trailers stood in the water, like herons on one leg
Santana Shorty
When you manage a city's natural resources
Try to ignore the honeysuckle,
but you'll give up.
It crowds you, dense and tangled.
Rosalie Hendon
