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      August 21, 2011Hospital, SpringGwenn A. Nusbaum

      Day opens, clouds
      release their grip, light

       

       

      the color of turnips, escaping.
      A man reads a newspaper as though

       

       

      his wife’s surgery will turn up
      on one of the pages. He holds

       

       

      the paper like a shield.
      The nurses keep their distance.

       

       

      You can’t see it from this angle,
      but babies are being born.

      from #34 - Winter 2010

      Gwenn A. Nusbaum

      “My first recorded poem was in eighth grade. By high school, I declared in another poem that the pen was my favorite tool for expression. I followed the ‘conventional’ track of pursuing professional studies in psychology in college, yet straddled the world of the arts—especially English and literature. Graduate school in social work and post-graduate training in psychotherapy and psychoanalysis led to a career in which I have the privilege of helping people navigate their lives, engaging in personal dialogues. Before work, I write poetry. I see poems as possessing the potential for global dialogue, human to human, soul to soul.”