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	<title>Ethershop Fall 2006</title>
	<link>http://ethershopf06.umwblogs.org</link>
	<description>Just another UMW Blogs.org weblog</description>
	<lastBuildDate>Tue, 07 Nov 2006 04:42:12 +0000</lastBuildDate>
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		<title>&#8220;Winter Field&#8221; by Ellen Bryant Voigt</title>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;The winter field is not
the field of summer lost in snow; it is
another thing, a different thing.
&#8220;We shouted, we shook you,&#8221; you tell me,
but there was no sound, no face, no fear, only
oblivion&#8211;why shouldn&#8217;t it be so?
After they&#8217;d pierced a vien and fished me up,
after they&#8217;d reeled me back they packed me under
blanket on top [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://ethershopf06.umwblogs.org/2006/11/07/winter-field-by-ellen-bryant-voigt/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Song for Autumn, by Mary Oliver</title>
		<description><![CDATA[In the deep fall
don&#8217;t you imagine the leaves think how
comfortable it will be to touch
the earth instead of the
nothingness of air and the endless
freshets of wind? And don&#8217;t you think
the trees themselves, especially those with mossy,
warm caves, begin to think
of the birds that will come — six, a dozen — to sleep
inside their bodies? And [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://ethershopf06.umwblogs.org/2006/11/06/song-for-autumn-by-mary-oliver/</link>
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		<title>By Accident</title>
		<description><![CDATA[First she gave me the wound by accident.
Then the tourniquet she tied unwound by accident.
Your friend may want to start running.
I gave his scent to the hounds by accident.
Balloons on the mailbox, ambulance in the driveway.
Bobbing for apples I drowned by accident.
Did someone tell the devil we were building Eden?
Or did he slither on the [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://ethershopf06.umwblogs.org/2006/11/05/by-accident/</link>
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		<title>Representative Poetry Online</title>
		<description><![CDATA[ http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/
I thought this would be a good place to share my favorite poetry site with some like-minded individuals.  The RPO site has a large collection of major English-speaking poets from many eras.  As it stands on canon, there are fewer present-day poets than might be desired by some, but there is no real use in expecting any [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://ethershopf06.umwblogs.org/2006/11/03/representative-poetry-online/</link>
			</item>
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		<title>A Marriage Must Be Worked At</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Newlyweds on the honeymoon trip,
they are trying to get
from one set of ruins to the next.
There were no double berths.
He took the top.
Now they are three feet apart.
Neither sleeping.
They are perfectly still,
hurtling over the landscape.
Michael Chitwood
Crazyhorse
Number 68
Fall 2005
A lot of times, a poem is ambiguous because it lacks narrative.  Here, we see an ambiguity from [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://ethershopf06.umwblogs.org/2006/10/30/a-marriage-must-be-worked-at/</link>
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		<title>Reccomendation &#8211; The Cobweb by Raymond Carver</title>
		<description><![CDATA[The Cobweb
A few minutes ago, I stepped onto the deck
of the house. From there I could see and hear the water,
and everything that&#8217;s happened to me all these years.
It was hot and still. The tide was out.
No birds sang. As I leaned against the railing
a cobweb touched my forehead.
It caught in my hair. No one [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://ethershopf06.umwblogs.org/2006/10/30/reccomendation-the-cobweb-by-raymond-carver/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>At Home by Hugo Claus</title>
		<description><![CDATA[At Home
Father was eating partridge and Mother was out
and I and Joris were talking about murders
and getaways and on what trains
when the sun rolled into our attic
and lay there gleaming in the hay.
Father swore and said: God sees me.
Joris made his getaway
and I went on playing with the trains
which ran on electricity across the floor
between [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://ethershopf06.umwblogs.org/2006/10/23/at-home-by-hugo-claus/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Living with Ballads: Sidna Allen</title>
		<description><![CDATA[He mounted to the bar
with a pistol in his hand
and he sent Judge Massie
to the Promised Land:
the only mountain ballad
my mother ever sang
the years that she was raising me
on Pop Rocks and Tang,
and Grandmother thought secular
music miles beneath
her notice, so my mind is not
one Stith Thompson motif
after another, not a green
wood thick with noble felons,
no [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://ethershopf06.umwblogs.org/2006/10/23/living-with-ballads-sidna-allen/</link>
			</item>
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		<title>Virginia M. Heatter</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Autopsy
This is the sky where it meets
the water&#8217;s surface.
This is the wet ridge of it,
the line between life and drowning.
This is the glow of embers rising
against the rigors of evergreen.
This is a ring of large stones,
and in the nostrils, cedar burning.
This is the sound, still throbbing
in the ear canal, of translucence
passing through narrow tubes.
This is [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://ethershopf06.umwblogs.org/2006/10/18/virginia-m-heatter/</link>
			</item>
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		<title>Eidolon</title>
		<description><![CDATA[http://www.poems.com/eidolter.htm
This poem bases itself on an odd premise from Euripides that I was unfamilar with until now; Helen never went to Troy at all, but instead the goddess Aphrodite replaced her with an illusion (an eidolon, or phantom).
 What is painfully absent from this poem is how Helen feels about this.  She is the speaker, but [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://ethershopf06.umwblogs.org/2006/10/14/eidolon/</link>
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