Yes, yes. I know the hard freeze will come, but until then, maybe through Thanksgiving, perhaps into the first week of December, I shall have flowers blooming in my garden, and I shall have finished poems on my clipboard. That is what it means to live above the frost line. It means that in this special dwelling place we get extended growing time.
About Me
- Nancy Simpson
- Nancy Simpson's LIVING ABOVE THE FROST LINE, New and Selected Poems was published by Carolina Wren Press (N.C. Laureate Series, 2010.) She is the author of ACROSS WATER and NIGHT STUDENT, State Street Press, still available on WWW at Alibris and Books Again. Her poems have been published in Southern Poetry Review, Prairie Schooner, The Georgia Review and other literary magazines. "Carolina Bluebirds" was published in THE POETS GUIDE TO THE BIRDS, Anhinga Press). "Grass" was reprinted in the 50th Anniversary Issue of Southern Poetry Review: DON'T LEAVE HUNGRY ( U.of Arkansas Press.) Seven poems were reprinted in the textbook, SOUTHERN APPALACHIAN POETRY,(McFarland.) Two poems were published in SOLO CAFE, Two more poems were published in SOLO NOVO."In the Nantahala Gorge" was published in Pisgah Review. "Studying Winter" was reprinted in Pirene's Fountain Anthology and "The Collection" in Collecting Life Anthology. Most recently, Southern Poetry Review Edited by James Smith, published "Our Great Depression," and The Southern Poetry Anthology Vol. VII: NORTH CAROLINA,Edited by William Wright, reprinted "Leaving in the Dead of Winter."
Showing posts with label Southern Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Southern Poetry. Show all posts
Saturday, November 1, 2008
November 1, 2008 LIVING ABOVE THE FROST LINE MEANS:
Living above the frost line means - no frost up here on the mountain as yet. Each night, the weatherman predicts below freezing temperatures. I look out the next morning on flowers in full bloom. Yes, it even snowed last Tuesday. Snowflakes rested for a few minutes on fuchsia sourwood leaves. The Knock Out Roses were happy to get a drink, and not one of their blossoms withered from the snow. The butterfly bushes, blooming since spring, are still sending up their cones of color.
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