Rev. Nancy Schluntz Diablo-Alameda Branch   Sunday, Monday, Thursday It doesn’t matter It won’t turn off.   Part of living and loving Is getting used to things That won’t turn ... Read more

Patricia Dennis, Santa Clara Branch   We were young girls holding hands playing hop scotch whispering secrets sneaking into forbidden rooms trying on the jewels of our mothers and dressing ... Read more

Marsha J. Perlman SW Florida Branch   I’ve been to court countless times. Not because I broke the law. Not because I was arrested or presented with a warrant. I, an instructor of English as a Second Language. They, my classes of Central American female and male students. Yes, crossed the border illegally at night while entire villages lived marginally to support one of their own to start a new life. At first they couldn’t read the rules they were expected to observe. Acquired English by day, but not fast enough to understand that in this country one doesn’t offer a bribe to a police officer when pulled over, hand-cuffed or incarcerated. Jail cell was home until court date. Result: Lost wages, hungry families. Lost English lessons, no jobs. Lost cars, no transportation. Lost apartments…homeless. What _is _our definition of_ JUSTICE?_ Imagine an unbroken world designed for compassion with: Harmony rather than conflict. Unity instead of threats. Defense in place of blame. Acceptance without prejudice. Laughter replacing tension. Let us wage peace and rediscover _JOY._   www.marshajperlman.com ... Read more

Risa Roberts Fort Lauderdale Branch   She stripped down to her underwear Then Slowly stripped down To her bones Not enough She reached deep into her being Found the child And Crossed ... Read more

Linda Newman Woito Iowa City, Iowa Branch   Prudence opened a narrow door and was surprised she was walking into a closet thinking it was a women’s bathroom but since ... Read more

Heather Banks, Member at Large, Rockingham, VA   I never owned a real black cat, though felines of three other shades owned me for more than 20 years sequentially. Even longer has this ebony cat crouched on a table that might be rectangular or round, and might be covered or just painted brown but definitely is very flat like the depth of all ambiguous spaces painted on two-dimensional surfaces. The pot of flowers, painted white, somehow admits a trace of the room’s vertical orange plane. The azure sky does not intrude entirely on primed, bare canvas between cattails and sunny flowers that sing of daffodils or gladiolas that cannot open fully. Light varies the striped décor’s lush tint, and the sheer, patterned curtain rests, twisted between breaths from the open window. A painting—or perhaps mirror’s dark reflection— almost slides off the wall into the path of the screen door’s yellow frame. Through decades now, I see, the young artist’s energy coiled in the waiting black cat’s smudge. Each time I delve into this image, ... Read more