Third Wednesday Magazine Publishes My Poems “Assemblage”, “Preserving”, and “Punting”

“Duck with Reflections” (Photograph) by Lisa Yount of El Cerrito, California

Lately, I have been thinking about continuity and longevity. Third Wednesday is now a teenager–no small feat in the world of publishing. (Perhaps this musing has been triggered by a significant birthday of my own? Hmmmm….)

I know that I am very grateful that my friend, Stella Nesanovich, whose own poems have often graced the pages of Third Wednesday, suggested that I submit work here. In the past five years since, I have become a subscriber and a devoted reader of this journal. And the editors have often–though certainly not always–said “Yes” to poems I have submitted to them. The three included in this issue (diverse in tone, subject matter, and form) bring the total number of poems accepted to a full baker’s dozen of thirteen.

More important, my relationship with this gem of a journal has several times sparked new ideas and occasioned new work, and even occasionally encouraged me to see an older poem–first drafted in a different decade–in a new way. This is true of the one of the three they took for this issue. One arrived in first draft form about thirty years ago, one about ten years ago, and one very recently. Does one’s voice evolve within the continuity of one’s life as a working poet? It is a question I am mulling, and that questioning is aided by seeing work from different periods of my life in print, side by side.

As usual, I am keenly interested in the work of other poets, fiction writers, and visual artists in this issue. You will have your own favorites, of course. (And I would love to know which ones you respond to!) For me, the one that struck me most keenly this time is by a young student from the Detroit Public Schools, Reyann Aldais. The poem is called “Who I Am” and begins: “In Arabic, my name means/the door to Paradise.” It is fresh and sure and soaring, and I am very glad to have encountered it through Third Wednesday’s participation in publishing selected work from the InsideOut Literary Arts Project that has fostered and promoted the life-transforming creativity of young Detroit students since 1995.

I hope that your summer is unfolding with serenity after the convulsions of last spring, and I hope that you are finding ample time to read, write, sing, dance, imagine, picture, and dream.

All my best, Leslie

Click HERE to see all the poems in this issue and/or to purchase copies of the print issue.

Transplanting a Birthday

As many of you know, I was born in the frozen part of the year, just a few breaths after all the holidays, at the time when the light is dimmest. I also live in a region prone to ice and snow.

I have found–increasingly so–that by the time my birthday rolls around I feel too tired to enjoy it. And I want to enjoy each launch into a new year fully!  Even as a child, I longed for a summer birthday–and have continued to do so for almost six decades now. 2020 is the year I turn 60 years old. I am pretty excited about this! And, as my gift to myself, I am transplanting my birthday  from the brrrrrrrs of January to the aahhs of June warmth. This year, and every year after, I am celebrating the years behind and the adventures ahead on Midsummer’s Day, June 21. (My official-purposes date will remain the same but for celebratory purposes–woo-hoo!–there will be the maximum of light, blooms in the garden, and flowing water in the river.)

Here’s to entering my sage years with a new point of view!

(Many thanks to Tim for taking the photographs and overseeing the planting of this prairie sage, to Julia Uleberg for the gift of sage from her garden at Dacie’s, to Marea for the “Birthday Girl” magnet I enjoy 365 days a year, and to all of you for your good company on this journey through life!)

LESLIE