Cindy Nolte

13 Flips | 3 Magazines | @ccindyrun | Keep up with Cindy Nolte on Flipboard, a place to see the stories, photos, and updates that matter to you. Flipboard creates a personalized magazine full of everything, from world news to life’s great moments. Download Flipboard for free and search for “Cindy Nolte”

Winter On Roan

Blood offerings stain the beaks<br>of the ravens on Roan;<br>coyotes track the scent<br>of dying things in the snow.<br>The heights are empty now,<br>windswept and barren;<br>but when winter loses its grip<br>on the high places,<br>you will return<br>past the bleached bones<br>and scattered tufts of fur,<br>past the lone feather<br>picked up and rocking<br>on the spring wind.<br>You will climb<br>through blooming rhododendron<br>to the grassy balds,<br>where the gray clouds<br>of the dying season have lifted<br>and you can see the Blue Ridge,<br>rolling forever<br>into the …

Watch horses pull a tanker truck out of snow

Joel Appleman was driving to work in Central Pennsylvania when he came upon an Amish horse team pulling a tanker truck safely out of the snow. …

Merchant Shipping

Are you as excited for spring as we are? Do you have some great images that capture the "spring thaw"? Send them to ktrimble@grit.com and you might see them in our March/April issue of GRIT. You'll receive $25 per photo that is used along with two complementary issues that they appear in.

Volunteer

<b>WANT TO VOLUNTEER? ....</b><b>ONE ACRE CAFÉ FUNCTIONS WITH 95% VOLUNTEERS….WE NEED YOU!</b><p><b>There are two ways that you can volunteer at One Acre Café:</b><p>1. You can …

Song of transition

Drifting as leaves and it is<br>no wonder.<p>Drifting as ashes and I have been burned so it is<br>no wonder.<p>Drifting as wind driven and it is<br>no wonder.<p>As ailing birds that do not migrate and I have been<br>wingless so it is<br>no wonder.<p>Screaming as birds do my only vowel and even this<br>catches fire as it falls so it is<br>no wonder.<p>The mouth would take what it has been given<br>as I have given as all I know<br>to do.<p>The morning would wait by my bed in the night<br>as I have waited as all I know<br>to do.<p>Because I knew no better and …

Though the possibility is now less remote...

I won’t think about cancer today<p>instead I will hold the hours in my hand<br>still as a Monarch pinned to a board with its<br>unfluttered wings and its<br>moons of frank color breathless<br>beneath glass<p>I will howl with the shepherd dogs down the street<br>to the wail of distant sirens<br>careening in the red-lit night<p>I will juggle dreams of flight with chainsaws with<br>neuroses that creep and bind like finger traps<p>I will catch my errant memories in a jar and<br>poke holes in the lid to be kept by my bed<p>I will remember …

Blue Jay And Hoarfrost

Blue Jay And Hoarfrost

Now I know

Winter came and they drained the lake.<br>I stood like a pilgrim on its banks, <br>twenty feet below where I’d once floated,<br>wondering what was under me.<br>Now I know. Rock and mud. <br>The lake made small enough<br>to appear young again. <br>The old bones of fir trees,<br>exposed as if meatless.<p>I think you come here sometimes. <br>Drag your spirit out of its tired boat<br>to kiss the water<br>the way I remember.<p>The night my mother told you<br>I grew like a carp in her belly.<br>Small and sunless. An old thing even then.<br>You brought me here,<br>a …

For Beth

I see you reaching<br>for the spirit things<br>of a dead father<br>in the places<br>that he loved.<br>You are muddy<br>with memory<br>in your search<br>for the odd twigs<br>and the fallen leaves<br>of his life.<br>But beautiful as they are,<br>those things<br>and your words<br>cannot marshall the man<br>in a world he has left.<br>He is gone<br>from the mountains,<br>the waters,<br>the sheltered coves<br>of your remembrance.<br>If you would find him,<br>look to yourself.<br>Turn your eyes<br>to the one sanctuary<br>he has never left.<p>© Jude Dippold, 2013

While Walking In A Rail Yard

I watched<br>two women dance<br>around some private sorrow.<br>They dipped and swooped<br>like swallows<br>in silent harmony.<br>And when their footfalls<br>came to slow,<br>they opened arms,<br>embraced each other,<br>and fell into a wordless place<br>that only women know.<p>© Jude Dippold, 2014

Winter Walk

They walked as one<br>through the snow,<br>hip to waist,<br>her shoulder buried<br>in his ribs.<br>Pausing<br>at the intersection,<br>they waited<br>for the signal to change,<br>steamy breaths in unison<br>counting down<br>the frigid moments<br>of an uneventful winter day.<br>Then she slid her body<br>around the front of his,<br>looked up<br>and wrapped one hand<br>around the back of his head.<br>All longing,<br>she pulled his face<br>to her lips,<br>sucked the cold<br>from his bones,<br>and stopped traffic<br>with the light<br>of her love,<br>leaving a small world<br>wanting.<p>© Jude Dippold, 2014