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The Mountain Laurel is
dedicated to ensuring the quality publication of literary works and works of
art by the students
of North Greenville University, as well as those of individuals affiliated
with the campus.
For those interested in
submitting: please remember to read the submission guidelines before you
submit anything.
Your submission may be disregarded if it does not fit the required format.
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Her hands are unraveling in sound
the volume rising between thumb and index.
She tells excitement to others hands
and something in that voicing of fingers
says, “be easy your dreams will come,”
or, “have your soup now.”
She appears to conduct orchestras
in her mind, to rise, to pitch
words like batons into the air
where everything into the air
where everything that flies will hear.
And more—she wants to ask “does the moon
rattle?” or “can I bite sound, make it
cry?” She asks something again, her fingers
in a rage to know, how sound grows
in the throat, making speech of pure air
shaping flowers, identifying old friends
calling across a lawn.
And even in sleep she locks her hands
to force her dreams to sound, to make
the darkness talk to her – to listen.
~Bernard Meredith, The Mountain Laurel 1981 |