Some folks like to tout our “four gentle seasons,”
but really we have eight gentle seasons:
the usual four and then Wind, Dust, Fire, and Monsoon.
“Hey! That doesn’t sound gentle!” you might say.
Au contraire, ma petite chou —
· the wind is no Hurricane Katrina (& we never
have tornadoes);
· the dust is no Iraqi simoom — it merely causes
scratchy eyes and some bumper thumpers;
· the fire eats trees and irritates bronchia, but
it actually smells incense-like from a distance, and no
houses usually get killed in the making of the season;
· and though the monsoon floods out streets and
brings in some Federal aid, most folks are glad for the
light show, the rainbows and the rain.
Plus, the more colorful seasons are short and sporadic.
Sometimes we have no fire or dust at all.
Writers published here are, or have been — residents of
anywhere around Grant County, New Mexico. Authors
retain all rights. This is a labor of love: nobody gets paid.
If you would like to appear on this site, send an email to
Rick Stansberger, Editor and Publisher
Posted by mugs on February 17, 2008 at 6:19 am
Like your home, Rick.
Posted by sleepswithbear on February 17, 2008 at 9:42 pm
Glad you like it. I think it’s absolutely on the shoulders of poets to promote other poets. Who else is going to?
Posted by P garcia on March 6, 2011 at 6:55 am
Thank You. I’ve heard of a reading in Bayard, soon? One day a man who was listening to our conversation oon the bus came to me on the streets afew days later and said to me: ” Sing brother. You are a poet.” I pass that on to you : “Sing brother. You are a poet.”
Posted by sleepswithbear on March 28, 2011 at 12:07 am
April 9, I forget exactly when, but I will check, Brother Poet.