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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link="#0563C1" vlink="#954F72" style='word-wrap:break-word'><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'>12-29-22 Group-2 Critiques <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>1. Joan’s piece:<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I really liked this piece on the first reading and even more after the second. Some of my favorite lines:<o:p></o:p></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:18.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:"Verdana",sans-serif;color:black'>“darkness has a way of seeping <o:p></o:p></span></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:18.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:"Verdana",sans-serif;color:black'>past layers of air and misty rain” and “but wait I hear amid the deepening</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:18.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:"Verdana",sans-serif;color:black'>fog and drear of daily pain” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:18.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:"Verdana",sans-serif;color:black'>We try valiantly to not despair in cold dark winter. But there is:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:18.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:"Verdana",sans-serif;color:black'>“fog and drear of daily pain” in spite of all our best efforts!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:18.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:"Verdana",sans-serif;color:black'>But perhaps, unlooked for the Winter Bird appears to bring us renewed hope. I love it! Only one suggestion, consider capitalizing Bird in the title. It is the essence of the message of hope. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:18.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:"Verdana",sans-serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:18.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:"Verdana",sans-serif;color:black'>2. Valerie’s piece:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:18.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:"Verdana",sans-serif;color:black'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'>A poem for the Christmas holiday. An often-sited amazement that a small and fragile baby can be the beginning of the redemption of fallen humanity. It recalls to me that song about the infant Jesus: “Mighty like a Rose.” A heart felt, very well executed and expressed effort.<o:p></o:p></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'>3. Leonard’s piece:<o:p></o:p></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'>A very nice encapsulation of the changes in the thought process and verbal expression as we humans age. Such happens in both conversation and also alas when we compose written observations and ideas. Fortunately, the words almost always return for recapture, at least so far! An accurate and entertaining description of a perhaps inevitable, yet dismaying brain phenomenon of our golden years. I do maintain that, some of it is due to the hugely increased amount of data points that we need to keep track of in today’s overly complicated world. <o:p></o:p></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'>4. Alice’s piece: <o:p></o:p></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></p><p style='margin:0in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'>Back in 2020, I did a presentation re the question of: where do poems come from? In this piece, so beautifully evocative of winter, we see that it comes from all aspects of the season. Poems can develop from: “the stinging bites of sleet” and “within the whirl of a wintry wind.” It is not found just in: “the clear chimes of the cathedral” or “on the rosy cheeks of a happy child.” As poets, any single part or several parts of an experience can inspire us. Perhaps that is the gift of the poet, that we are attuned to all aspects of an experience and not just the pleasant ones. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p></div></body></html>