Contrasts of a Confection

During my poetry class, we were given an assignment to write two contrasting poems about the same substance. One of the poems was to be completely literal. No figurative language was allowed in that poem. For that assignment, I penned a poem called, "Rootbeer Barrels." The second part of that assignment was a bit more... Continue Reading →

The Ink in Our Veins

When I entered the family history center that stormy April afternoon, I had one thing on my mind; I had never seen a photo of my father’s father.  I was 46 and I had never seen my grandfather’s face. I typed his name into the search bar on the site, Newspapers.com, “George R. Slighte,” the results came back instantly.

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