The Fairfield Review
About The Winter 2005 Edition
Welcome to the Winter 2005 edition of The Fairfield Review. There is still snow on the ground in New England, and the ground hog still sleeps. The grayness of late winter, with sand and salt having taken the taste of the landscape, prevails. Nevertheless, there is poetry in the air, and with poetry, spring can never be far behind.
We are please to be introducing so many new authors to our readers. Eighteen of our twenty authors for this issue are new to The Fairfield Review, three are students and five are teachers. We welcome back Bonnie Enes and John Jeffrey, who appeared in recent issues.
We begin with three calculating poems, finding the poetry in mathematics--at least in title--if not the geometry of metaphor. Start with Heidi Atwood's Brunelleschi's Equation. Then move through Abraham Romney's, Euclid. Finally, read Mark McGuire-Schwartz's How Many Drops?
Continuing the count, we have four poems of nature, always a rich milieu of metaphor, and reflecting pool of our thirst for spring. Begin with Amanda Auchter's Beached, with the wonderful line "..watching / the breakwater tug against / it own resistance." Then read Hugo DeSarro's Darning Needle, which opens with the line "Dragonfly rigid on the fence / on tiptoe like a weathervane." Move on to Alaska and Kenneth Rehill's Moose, with the line "...he raised one hoof, assuming / for a moment, the stance of a bird dog pointing." Conclude our day's journey into flora and fauna with the end of days in a Waterfall by Sarah Sloat. Her rich stanza "Somewhere far from here / its stream is untangling. / Somewhere it travels / an unfinished road" settles like the sun.
Five poems in this issue recall lessons learned in the classrooms of bricks and mortar and well as those of the street and stumbling. Start with Lynn Patmalnee's Slipping, Then read Terri Brown-Davidson's Dinosaur Bones: Forty-Six and Four. Follow with Robert H. Nunnally, Jr's The Beauty College Student and DJ Gaskin's On Advice of Professor Klappert. Finish with John Jeffrey's Learning.
We continue with our buffet for ears and eyes with two poems about faith and spirit: Tom Moore's Polishing God and Sarah Sloat's Heavenly Flight. Continuing in the vein of knowing and discovery, with a sliver of light, are Amanda Auchter's Exposure, Emma Lee's Sunlight: North Dublin and Rose McDonagh's Ancestors. From the mortality of the past to the fear and loss of the present, read DJ Gaskin's Facing the Tumor and Suspension, followed by Tom Moore's Hit and Run. Finally, project into the summer with Bonnie Enes' We Danced Almost Naked in the Rain and Hugo DeSarro's Jamestown Summer.
We were delighted to read a parody for a change, enjoying Monica Ellen Smith's clever Sinker Soliloquy. We pair it with a love poem, Claudia Moscovici's Your Voice, not because love often requires humor to make sense of the fools it makes of us, but simply because it made us smile.
We end with two stories of pain, loss and redemption. Read Margaret Karmazin's Cutting, and finish with Richard Boughton's First Things First.
Our classic poem for this issue is Walt Whitman's I am the Poet.
Editors' Choice Awards go to First Things First by Richard Boughton, Polishing God by Tom Moore and Waterfall by Sarah Sloat
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You can find a complete list of this issue's writings in the table of contents and information about contributors in About the Authors.
Starting with our Winter 2005 issue, we have changed the closing dates for submissions. Based on your feedback and the volume of work we are now receiving, we agreed that it was too long from the time authors sent us their work and when they heard our final decisions. Closing dates for the Winter issue are now September 30 and for the Summer issue March 31. Our reading cycle will start thereafter and run for 90 days.
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The Ides of March are an ominous time, not only for tyranny in its many forms, but also for the clutches of winter that do not let go, whether for a season or forever. Each snow that has befallen us reminds us of that blanket under which we go to rest. But also the realization that what is hidden is revealed in due course. As the days stretch longer, spring cannot come soon enough. Be warm; write often.
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Document last modified on: 09/25/2005