poetry


Joseph O'Brien
Excelsior Unincorporated


Michael Lee Johnson
Illinois Farmers


Michael Lee Johnson
Rod Stroked Survival with a Deadly Hammer


Mary Ann Honaker
Praise Song on a Summer Night


Mary Ann Honaker
Cambridge Commons


Mary Ann Honaker
The Sight


Kate Bluett
Incarnation


Rachel Kondro
to remember october


John Savoie
Beads


Andrew Thornton-Norris
Habanera


Mark Amorose
Gethsemane


Nick Ripatrazone
Confessions


Nick Ripatrazone
Harry Ploughman


Meredith Wise
Roman April


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Incarnation

She grows
round, a slow trans-
figuration. Some days it
seems she has always been waiting;
sometimes the immanence bewilders her.
The hidden confounds her, its stillness terrible,
its movements swift and sudden, joy dancing
on her inmost nerves. She waits to see him at last,
hold him, take him in her hands, receive him.
Present now, he will then be visible, glorious
to behold, his voice a clarion heard by all.
She waits. One day he will be here,
warm and breathing, sweet
and strangely
small.

--Kate Bluett

This piece originally appeared in the previous issue of Dappled Things, Lent/Easter 2009. In that printing, the final line was inadvertently omitted. We regret the error.

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Kate Bluett is the wife of J.R. and the mother of Joseph. She writes, for the most part, while they are asleep. She is also a graduate of the University of Dallas, 2001 and 2006. And she lives in a city with the odd name of The Colony, Texas.