Published Works10/16/2024
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 On Better World Books
https://www.betterworldbooks.com/product/detail/it-s-just-a-phase-9798990979024  

I am now publishing regularly on Substack.

You can find me on Instagram with the handle
@cranesaremypassion. 

Greetings from my corner of the natural world.  My poem, “Primal,” was runner-up in the Chattanooga Writers Guild July writing contest. The winner was “Ocean Balm,” a lovely poem by Becky Parker. You can view the poems here. 

Items published in The Hellbender Press and The Chattanooga Pulse appear in groups at the end of this list.

My essay, “How I Became a Poet,” appeared in the online literary magazine Waxing and Waning from April Gloaming Publishing. 
https://www.waxingandwaning.org/issue-11/how-i-became-a-poet-by-ray-zimmerman-_cnf_/.

I told the story of Audubon Acres in The Tennessee Conservationist: 
https://digital.tnconservationist.org/publication/?m=58294&i=725674&p=22&ver=html5.

My article about freshwater snorkeling in Appalachia appeared in Appalachian Voice. 
https://appvoices.org/2022/08/25/snorkelers-explore-appalachia/.
An earlier version appears here: https://appvoices.org/2020/09/09/snorkel-appalachia-freshwater/.

My article about hawk migration also appeared in Appalachian Voice: https://appvoices.org/tag/hawk-count/.

My short story “Life After Writing” won an award from the Chattanooga Writers Guild and appears on their website 
https://chattanoogawritersguild.files.wordpress.com/2020/12/10-2020-ray-zimmerman-life-after-writing.pdf. 

My poem “Hellbender: was recognized by Tennessee Magazine and appeared on their website: 
https://www.tnmagazine.org/poets-playground-nov-2020-winners/. It is the last in a long series of poems, so you have to scroll down.

Published in The Hellbender Press

My interview with a rattlesnake expert: https://hellbenderpress.org/news/rattled.

I reviewed Sounds Wild and Broken, a Pulitzer Prize in General Nonfiction finalist by David George Haskell: 
https://hellbenderpress.org/news/the-sounds-of-science.

My article on the North Carolina Snorkel Trail: https://hellbenderpress.org/news/wnc-creek-snorkels.

My article about Tennessee’s wintering Sandhill Cranes: https://hellbenderpress.org/news/sandhills-fly-in.

My story about the Tennessee Aquarium program to restore Lake Sturgeon in the Tennessee River: 
https://hellbenderpress.org/news/sturgeon-release.

My story about an exhibit of art made from washed ashore plastics: 
https://hellbenderpress.org/news/like-a-message-in-a-bottle-plastic-washed-ashore-signals-a-growing-threat-to-our-health.   

The Trails and Trilliums Festival at Tennessee’s South Cumberland State Park: 
https://hellbenderpress.org/news/feedbag/hike-and-learn-at-trails-and-trilliums-festival-in-south-cumberland-state-park.

Get off the Grid Fest in Chattanooga: 
https://hellbenderpress.org/news/middle-tennessee-is-a-leader-in-electric-car-production-what-better-place-to-celebrate-alternative-energy.

Keeping cigarette buts out of the waterways. 
https://hellbenderpress.org/news/keep-your-butts-out-of-the-tennessee-river.

The Story of a Wildlife Rehabilitator in Chattanooga: 
https://hellbenderpress.org/news/wildlife-rehabbers-return-birds-to-the-sky-in-chattanooga.

An interview with Hellbender researcher Brian Miller:
https://hellbenderpress.org/news/hellbenders-falling-off-highland-rim-of-tennessee.

The Hellbender restoration project at the Chattanooga Zoo: 
https://hellbenderpress.org/item/65-zoo-researchers-raising-hell-benders-in-chattanooga.     

Published in The Chattanooga Pulse

A review of a book of poetry by Helga Kidder: 
https://www.chattanoogapulse.com/arts_entertainment/the-written-word/reviewing-helga-kidders-latest-collection-of-poetry/.

A review of a book of poetry by Finn Bille: 
https://www.chattanoogapulse.com/arts_entertainment/the-written-word/reviewing-finn-bille-s-new-book-of-poetry-the-kings-coin/ 

My article about Robert Sparks Walker, poet, and literary naturalist: 
https://www.chattanoogapulse.com/features/pulitzer-prize-nominee-has-won-all-the-hearts-of-chattanooga/.

An article about the poetry open mic scene in Chattanooga, published just before Covid-19 hit: 
https://www.chattanoogapulse.com/features/chatty-on-the-mic/.

An article about freshwater snorkeling:
https://www.chattanoogapulse.com/arts_entertainment/entertainment-news/from-page-to-screen-casper-cox-searches-for-hidden-rivers/.

A prize-winning essay: 
​https://www.chattanoogapulse.com/arts_entertainment/the-written-word/the-dance-of-leaves/

​One of nature’s poems I photographed on January 10, 2025. It makes a nice image for this post on why I write poetry. But first, a word about my new book, It’s Just a Phase. 

We sold out of the first print run in early December, but my publisher has informed me that the second print run is now finished and be in stock. I am happy copies will again be available from Walnut Street Publishing.
I learned today that Humanities Tennessee will include a review of It’s Just a Phase in the statewide newsletter, “Chapter 16.” I never dreamed of this kind of exposure. The post will include a review, author headshot, cover image, and one of the poems.

I also learned today that I will be included in an authors’ panel at the Trails and Trilliums event, April 4-6 at Beersheba Springs Assembly on the Cumberland Plateau. Park Rangers and other Naturalists from across the state will attend this workshop.

I will also have a book signing at the Crazy Book Lady in Acworth, Georgia on Saturday, February 22.

On Wednesday, February 19 at 6:00 PM, I will offer a generative poetry workshop “Family and Other Animals” at Reve Coffee and Books in Hixson, Tennessee.

Another Diversion

I am putting the finishing touches on this edition on the night following the full moon. In Janisse Ray’s Journey in Place workshop presented via her Trackless Wild Substack: we renamed the full moons to reflect our location and experience. I renamed January the Moon of Rain and Flood because I once saw Glen Falls flowing at full volume after walking the path on muddy trails. I wrote the poem “Rain” to celebrate the event.

Like a poem that fills the heart to overflowing
rain covered the mountain just after the New Year.
Murmuring rivulets covered once dry leaves,
intersected paths and muddied trails,
muddied shoes and trouser legs.
I plunged through fecund mud and leaves,
became a mud man devoted to Sylvan gods.

Glen Falls became a roaring torrent,
deceived my ears.
Thinking it close, I forged ahead.
The cascade below the falls
became a booming choir.
Basses and contraltos reverberated
from hickory and oak.

I bowed before the splendor,
prepared to endure cold days ahead,
anticipated Equinox rebirth.

"Rain" first appeared in the journal Number One (now defunct), a Volunteer State Community College publication, in Gallatin, Tennessee. I republished it in my book, Healing and Conflict.

On this drier and colder January Night, I returned from a meeting of the Chattanooga Writers’ Guild around 8:00 pm and looked up to a clear sky to see Orion. As is my custom, I greeted the mighty hunter with the words, “Hello, Old Friend.” After all these years, he still doesn't reply.

The waning gibbous moon shined brightly to his north but did not obscure the hunter. He is one of the brightest winter constellations. Below him, the Dog Star, Syrius, shined brightly with Procyon to its north. Above Orion shone Aldebaron and one other star in the Hyades portion of Taurus. A few of the Pleiades burned brightly too.

I saw only bright Castor and Pollux of the Gemini twins above Procyon. I used the StarDate podcast to identify the nearby orange light as Mars. It is closest to the Earth now and, from our perspective, near the moon.
Why I Shouldn’t Write Poetry
I can think of a few compelling reasons not to write poetry before telling you why I do. If you don’t want to hear why I shouldn’t write poetry, skip to the next section of this edition. The final section includes exciting news for my new book, It’s Just a Phase. Some of them are beyond my fondest dreams.

The foremost reason not to write poetry is that it doesn’t pay. Guy Clark lamented this situation in his song “Cold Dog Soup.”

The small print run is a related issue. I once told a well-published fellow poet I was negotiating publication with a small press that used 500 copies as its standard print run. He told me this was a huge print run for a poetry book, and his comment filled me with foreboding.

At another time, a fiction publisher criticized me for telling people that another book had surpassed 300 copies. He said that people would think the book was a loser because it was not selling enough copies.

It is true that novels and some nonfiction books, especially cookbooks, surpass poetry and short story collections in sales, with a few notable exceptions. Billy Collins has made publishing his poetry into a small industry. A look at one of his TED talks illustrates why his work is popular. His poem “The Lanyard,” is a personal favorite.

That talk also illustrates why he has detractors among poets who view poetry as SERIOUS BUSINESS. He is noted for using humor and criticizing pretentious writing. He values “accessible poetry,” It is rumored that when he became Poet Laureate of the United States some poets went so far as to elect an “anti-laureate.”

His success illustrates a point about writing generally. For every Billy Collins, Stephen King, or Danielle Steele, hundreds support themselves with other jobs. The traditional measures of career success elude most writers.

I only included one poem about monetary success in my latest book. I debated including the poem “Money,” but the topic is inextricably linked to the human condition.

Money When it comes to money there is never enough. People with plenty say times are tough. For those without, times are tougher still. There’s no cash in the house to pay that bill. Adam Smith said we will always want more to buy new goods; keep the wolf from the door. The wolf is what we always perceive. Your wealth is determined by what you believe. I examine my bills and check my account, as I wish I had a larger amount.
​
Why I Write Poetry
I am no Billy Collins, but my poetry is sometimes called accessible. Writing a poem is much like solving a puzzle. I discover which words fit where, and why. I write in several forms and don’t believe one is superior to the others. Some forms have specific rhythms and rhyming patterns. Free verse also has a rhythm but is more like syncopated jazz while other forms might be compared to classical music.

I also write poetry as a means of communication. I express joy at the wonders of nature, chagrin at their mistreatment, and hope for a better future. I detour into matters of humanity and societal issues. Some listeners will agree, and some may disagree vehemently. I say listeners because my poetry is meant to be read out loud.

I appreciate poets who write for the page but I emphasize performance poetry and public readings. For me, putting a poem on the page is only the beginning. This belief is not new or revolutionary. Scholars tell us the Odyssey was recited for audiences before it was written. Some say the various sections were created separately and later became an epic poem with several sections.

I like that thought. It emphasizes the poet as the bard. Performance poets may be more closely aligned with songwriters, storytellers, and playwrights than novelists and nonfiction writers.

This essay began as a journal entry in response to “Credo,” Chapter 7 of Craft and Current by Janisse Ray. The chapter ended with an exercise and a writing prompt that inspired me, although this writing does not exactly adhere to her guidelines.
​This story first appeared in my Substack newsletter, https://substack.rayzimmerman.com.

Cranes at Hiwassee Refugee by Ray Zimmerman.
I once said that good writing is subject to the law of supply and demand and supply far outruns demand. That statement has come home to roost with my Substack readings.
My interests exceeded my reading time, so I was shocked when my email inbox held 45 messages primarily from Substack. I encountered one fine newsletter after another and subscribed. I knew I couldn’t sustain that workload and continue my creative endeavors, so I realized I must unsubscribe from a few newsletters.
Saying that is easier than achieving it. I read as many as I can and each one merits continued subscription. I open and read and find such wonderful prose and poetry, and I cannot let it go. Nevertheless, push has come to shove, and I will be unsubscribing from a few newsletters that are well worth reading.
Meanwhile, here are brief reviews of two poetry books.
On Phillips Creek Natalie Kimbell Finishing Line Press 2024 ISBN 979-8-8838-626-2Natalie Kimbell teaches English, Theater Arts, and Creative Writing. Her prose and poetry have appeared in several literary magazines.
Her book opens with the poem “River.” Titles are capitalized and “RIVER” begins with these lines: “I am a River of women’s stories / passing fluid, from mother to daughter- / distinct, like the sound of stones / skimming across pools of eternity.” The stories continue with “THE BOOK OF THE DEAD,” a name her granddaughter gave to the family picture album
The poet’s family and a homestead gone to a coal company are recurring themes in this inspired book of verse. Kimbell recalls visiting that homestead, bordered by Phillips Creek, a few weeks each year while growing up, so the passage of time is also a recurring theme. A painting of the homestead is reproduced on the book’s cover.
“MOURNING THE DEATH OF MY EX-HUSBAND’S SECOND WIFE” is a fine example of Kimbell’s wry sense of humor. I hear that she has another chapbook coming out soon.
Morning Window Bill Brown Iris Press ISBN 978-1-60454-501-2Bill Brown mentored many poets and taught Creative Writing at Nashville’s Hume/Fog academic high school. Brown received awards or fellowships from the Tennessee Writer’s Alliance, The Tennessee Arts Commission, and The National Endowment for Advancement of the Arts. Biographies appear online courtesy of Iris Press and Nashville Scene. Morning Windows has a page on the Iris Press website.
His poetry's recurring themes are family, rural life, and the natural world. The poem “Tracing Words” is exemplary of his work. “Could something announce // the importance of now and let / forever sit a while on the porch / proud of our neighbor’s new hay, / the buckskin’s flashy eyes?”
I reviewed Bill’s poetry textbook, Important Words in a previous edition of Crane’s Eye View. Chapter 16, a literary newsletter published in Nashville put a few of Bill’s poems online. “In Praise of Winter Trees,” was one of them. They also posted Love for Life: A Grateful Tribute to Bill Brown by writer Kim Green.
I have seen a list of his books somewhere, but here are links to a few I have read.
Late Winter
The News Inside
Elemental
The Cairns

A recent online post caused me to ponder the solstice celebrations I mentioned in the previous edition of Crane’s Eye View. The author spoke of “mainstream solstice celebrations” and wondered if the winter solstice was originally a cause to celebrate darkness.

Wendell Berry’s poem, To Know the Dark, came to mind. I like his comment about “dark feet and dark wings,” but I would say go without a light, whereas Berry says “go without sight.” As I have taught on many occasions, humans have night vision, though it cannot compete with that of night-active animals. Their eyes reflect light, due to a membrane called the tapetum lucidum which improves their night vision. This article discusses the use of eyeshine to identify animals https://blog.walkingmountains.org/curious-nature/eye-shine-color-animals.

I have only experienced total darkness in one place, a cave’s interior. The experience reminds me of all the devices that emit light. I have even seen people wearing sneakers with tiny lights that flash on and off. By shutting off or shielding cell phones and asking those with light-up sneakers to stand still, one can have a memorable experience. I implore you though, please do not explore caves except with an experienced guide. Cave rescues are difficult, time-consuming, costly, and not always successful.

I have led outdoor night hikes, with exercises to teach how night vision works. Night vision takes time to develop and any flash of white light ends it. I have a headlamp with a red light setting and use it to navigate without losing night vision. One night, I watched a raccoon cross my neighbor’s porch and walk toward mine. I didn’t move and kept the red light on. When the animal got close I turned on the white light for a better look and my observations ended with the raccoon scampering away.

Other parts of my neighborhood are not all that dark. The Big Dipper is barely visible above Chattanooga’s lights. The eastward view is better, where the bright lights of the winter constellations shine clearly. The winter sky has more first-magnitude stars than the sky over any other season. Though I have no southward view, I have seen Antereas in Scorpio from another location. Darkness is great for stargazing though darkness is becoming rare with light pollution.
One last thing that comes to mind in this discussion is Louis Armstrong, who celebrated “The Bright Blessed Day and the Dark Sacred Night” in his song “What a Wonderful World.” That could provoke yet another discussion celebrating darkness. Another launching point could be “The Creation” by James Weldon Johnson.
No Hair Dog Star–Isis

Sirius greeted the crescent moon last night,
followed his master Orion,
bright belt draped across the sky.

The bull fled Orion’s sword.
Seven sisters shunned his embrace.

Cold nights follow warm days.
Already the forsythia blooms.
My heart fills with the promise of spring.

Dog days of summer are far away.
When Sirius rises with the sun,
the Nile floods. 
This poem appeared In Southern Light: Twelve Contemporary Southern Poets.

​Two Reviews

Jericho Rising
Susie H Crain
ISBN 9798879620795

The introduction reveals a child living on the margins of poverty. The poems and short stories are honey, venom, and longing all served piping hot.

Chattown Chatta
Our Homeless
Mark J. Anderson
ISBN 979-8-218-53067-9

Anderson's book is a breath of fresh air in a world where the stories of a town's history often commemorate founding families while others are forgotten. Anderson interviewed unhoused people in Chattanooga and gave their stories a home in his book. A QR code follows each story and links the reader to a video interview on his YouTube channel.

Various ducks on the wetland at Curtain Pole Road, Chattanooga, Tennessee. I particularly like how they appear in puddles of light on the water. December 2022 by Ray Zimmerman.

This story began in my journal. I went down several Rabbit Holes as I explored the midwinter holidays and the significance of light in each. I also spoke of lunar and solar calendars and the Julian vs. the Gregorian calendar. Here is a more succinct version.

I recently learned that St. Lucy’s Day is celebrated on December 13th, which was once the day of the Winter Solstice. Thanks to the Gregorian calendar, the Solstice is now later in December but the Saint Lucy’s Day remains on December 13.

Unfortunately, she has been removed from the Solstice, a celebration of light returning with lengthening days. Her name means light and she is believed to have worn a wreath of candles on her head to light her way. This left her hands free to carry food to persecuted people.

I attended two celebrations of the Winter Solstice this year and the return of the light was prominent in each. At one, we celebrated with stories and poems about this return, but at the other, we celebrated by walking a labyrinth.

The Labyrinth is a walking meditation. One must follow the correct path to reach the center and return to the entrance. It has a long history as a spiritual practice in several faiths ranging from Christian to Pagan.

I first walked a labyrinth at the Scarritt-Bennett Conference Center in Nashville and composed the poem at the end of this story while staying there to attend the yearly Southern Festival of Books. I read from a chapbook at one of the festival sessions. While there, I composed the poem at the end of this story.

Since then, I have walked labyrinths at several locations, primarily Churches. I know of two labyrinths in Chattanooga, but there are likely more.

The Labyrinth I walked on Saturday, December 21, was a temporary structure, laid out with tape on a large cloth. The lights were off in the room but candles illuminated the path. I remembered the song “Walk in the Light,” which I learned while studying at a Quaker college years ago.

Having finished that labyrinth, I walked an outdoor Labyrinth and visited a Yule Log fire. I observed a tradition by writing a prayer on a slip of paper which I fed into the fire so that it would ascend with the smoke.

I returned to the indoor area and found pages with reproductions of Labyrinths that one could navigate with a pen. There was even a butterfly with a labyrinth on each wing. There was a small labyrinth carved into a wooden square. I traced that one with my finger.

As I left the church that hosted this event, I noticed some words prominently displayed on the front window. A variant appears on their website, “…we acknowledge that our church sits on Cherokee, Mvskoke, and Yuchi Land.” Now that is a place-based faith.

With the arrival of Christmas, I am reminded that many holidays bring a celebration of light at this time. Advent candles are lit at churches on Sunday and many churches hold Candlelight Christmas Eve services.

This year, the beginning of Hanukkah, The Festival of Lights, coincides with Christmas Day. That is not always the case since Hanukkah is set by a lunar calendar. Hanukkah has no connection to Christmas and its celebration is nothing like Christmas. But it is noteworthy that lights are important to the holiday.
Whatever tradition you celebrate at this time of year, may you walk in the light.

Walking the Labyrinth
October 2013

The path of the soul is not linear.
It spirals like the turns of this maze,
outlined with bricks on their sides.
Like time, it circles back,
passes by starting points.

I turn left, one hundred eighty degrees.
Not exactly the way I came, this path
to the center, where there is no Minotaur.
My dragons are all in my heart,
slain or otherwise.

The first wall outlines a square
which no paths cross.
Is this square sacred ground,
reserved for shaman, priestess,
and holy man?

If I stepped inside where no tracks appear,
would I transport to another place or time,
reappear burned to ash by sacred Geometry?

A friend asked a transit driver
in Nashville's less sacred geometry,
"Is this my stop?" Her simple reply,
“Either sit back down or get off the bus.”

​From my latest book ​https://walnutstreetpublishing.com/product/its-just-a-phase/.

Some days I can see the Tennessee River from my back deck. 

I am in no hurry to lose the red, gold, and brown that shades the woodland in late autumn, but I also look forward to a view of the river. Barges chug north against the current and flow south. Then the greenery of spring fills the gaps and the river is out of view.

There is a spot nearby where I can see Big Frog Mountain in Cherokee National Forest regardless of foliage, at least on clear days. The view depends on the weather rather than the foliage.

A little mist hides Big Frog, and more obscures the mountain leaving Missionary Ridge in view. It’s a handsome ridge, but it has a bloody history. Confederate forces retreated to Missionary Ridge after the Battle of Wauhatchie and the Battle at Lookout Mountain. They mustered a brief resistance there before retreating to North Georgia.

Fog played a part in the battle at Lookout Mountain, famously remembered as the Battle Above the Clouds. The name made sense to me when I saw the mountaintop above a valley obscured by fog due to a phenomenon known as a temperature inversion. One day I left my home on the mountain’s side and drove downhill into the fog.

Recently, the fog continued for several days, obscuring even Missionary Ridge. At first, I thought the ridge had moved closer, but I was seeing the seldom noticed Stringer’s Ridge, now home to a park. The fog that obscured one ridge brought the other to my attention.

I have driven into Cherokee National Forest and explored the trails there. I have driven the road atop Missionary Ridge (named for a historic mission to the Cherokees) to view the dogwoods in flower on many spring days, but I have never explored Stringer’s Ridge.

Stringer’s Ridge has also seen historic events unfold. It overlooks the Moccasin Bend Archaeological District, surrounded on three sides by a bend in the river where Civil War sites with earthworks and redoubts played a part in the war. Moccasin Bend is also home to Native American artifacts as old as the “Paleo Indian” period. Archaeologists have found evidence from the Archaic, Woodland, and Mississippian periods.

The rich heritage of this location also drew treasure hunters looking for everything from musket balls to grave goods. A local Native American told me that he had helped refill several hundred grave sites that had been opened and looted there.

Now that repatriation is moving forward I have learned that some tribes are reburrying returned artifacts. I hope they hide them well and avoid another cycle of looting.

Today’s essay started to go one place and ended in another. Richard Hugo described this phenomenon in his book, The Triggering Town.

My book, It's Just a Phase is temporarily out of stock at the publisher. Check out the other fine books from Walnut Street Publishing. https://walnutstreetpublishing.com/

This post previously appeared in my Substack Newsletter
https://rayzimmerman.substack.com

It is always good to find help along the way. Here are a few that I find particularly beneficial.

Resources for Writing and Drawing
Tell it Slant: Writing and Shaping Nonfiction by Brenda Miller and Suzanne Paola.
This book is an excellent resource for writing memoirs and nonfiction. The authors offer great insight into the writing process. They begin with exercises to bring memories to the surface and continue through crafting the work. There are numerous books on crafting your writing, but this one offers some great generative ideas.

Craft and Current by Janisse Ray
Each chapter begins with a short essay and gives the author a writing prompt. The author addresses the mystery of where writing comes from and the technique involved in crafting the work. There is an accompanying workbook. Janisse Ray is a best-selling writer with several titles in print. She also offers insights into the writing process in her Substack newsletters Trackless Wild and The Rhizosphere.

The Laws Guide to Nature Drawing and Journaling by John Muir Laws
John Muir Laws has authored several field guides to Western US natural areas and books on nature sketching and drawing. The Laws Guide to Nature Drawing and Journaling teaches drawing, writing, and measurement (such as bird counts) to give the reader a complete toolkit. The book is voluminous enough to be daunting, but the learner who tackles one section at a time will find a way through. I found it helpful to begin with the chapter titled, “Nature Drawing.” He also appears in The Nature Journal Connection and other YouTube videos. His Instagram posts are helpful, and his handle is @johnmuirlaws.

Journaling with Nature by Bethan Burton
Journaling with Nature includes tips for nature journaling for those who journal by drawing. I first discovered Burton’s work on Apple podcasts. The episodes are also readily available on YouTube and links appear on her website. She also produces a newsletter with signups on the web page. Her fine art prints and greeting cards are available there as well. Be advised that shipping is from Australia. Her Instagram handle is @journalingwithnature.

Important Words by Bill Brown and Malcolm Glass
Bill Brown was a mentor to several Tennessee poets. I have attended a few of his poetry workshops where he distributed handouts that included several poems on the same subject, all used with the various authors’ permission. His approach was to read aloud these poems on the same topic and then challenge the participants to write a poem of their own. His book takes the same approach but only used copies are available now. The book is a great resource and its use honors Bill’s legacy.
This article only scratches the surface. Please mention your favorites in the comments section. Links to other newsletters are also welcome.

I await the arrival of more copies of my new book, It’s Just a Phase, at the publisher’s office. In the meantime, I am seeking opportunities for readings and signings in the coming year. I will be at The Crazy Book Lady in Acworthm Georgia on the afternoon of February 22. 
https://walnutstreetpublishing.com/product/its-just-a-phase/

Check out the other fine publications from Walnut Street Publishing. https://walnutstreetpublishing.com/

​The Chattanooga Chapter of the Joseph Campbell Mythological Society has asked me to emcee the 2024 production of their solstice celebration at Grace Episcopal Church, on December 15 at 6:00 PM. The event is not well publicized, but all are welcome. Contact me via Facebook messenger if you want to perform at this event with a story of rebirth or bringing the light.

For anyone who wants to perform, please remember that this is a performance, not an open mic. Please bring a short bio with your name on it as you want it announced to the audience. The preferred format is an index card.

There will also be a reading by three historical fiction authors at Reve Coffee and books on Saturday, December 13, at 1:00 PM. 

My first book was a poetry anthology titled Southern Light: Twelve Contemporary Southern Poets. I collaborated with two other poets to produce this volume in 2011. It is out of print now, but authors retain the rights to their work. I am pleased to present a few of my poems from that volume, beginning with two poems appropriate to the season.
 
Christmas Papers
 
I was older when I noticed
the same color and pattern
on the Christmas papers.
 
Christmas morning, I rose with excitement,
and opened packages with scissors,
carefully cutting tape, so I wouldn’t rip the paper.
 
I was older when I noticed my mother
ironing on Christmas night. She ironed
the same towel again and again.
 
Under the towel, Christmas papers
lost their creases. They regained smooth surfaces.
She rolled the paper we could never replace.
 
Choosing between gifts and new paper,
she chose gifts.
 
Snow
 
Already the snow dissolves
at seven in the morning
in the Chattanooga dawn.
 
It returns me to an Ohio childhood
where I dragged my sled uphill
to skid back down again.
 
I would conclude the days sledding
and await my dad’s return, a rabbit
in his hunting coat.
 
Blood and guts defiled the whitest landscape,
cleaned up by dogs.
 
Then my mother was busy in the kitchen
with the rabbit in a pan and
vegetables from a Mason jar.
 
Birdshot lead between my teeth,
I could not taste the flesh
washed down with milk.
 
Awakened from this dream,
I breakfast on oatmeal with raisins.
The snow has melted.
 
This next one won an award from the Tennessee Writers' Alliance, and I read it at their awards ceremony at the Southern Festival of Books in Nashville, Tennessee. It has since appeared in several other publications, including The Southern Poetry Anthology, Volume VI: Tennessee.
 
Glen Falls Trail
 
I climb the limestone stairs
through an arch in rock,
into the earth’s womb,
pass through to a surprise:
George loves Lisa painted on a wall.
 
I wonder, did he ever tell her?
Did she ever know or think of him,
raise a brood of screaming children?
Did they kiss near wild ginger above the stony apse?
 
Did lady’s slipper orchids
adorn their meeting place where
deer drink from rocky cisterns?
 
Did their love wither
like maidenhair fern,
delicate as English Lace?
 
The symbols have outlived the moment.
There is only today,
only the murmur of water underground,
my finding one trickle into a pool.
 
I never knew this George or Lisa.
The rock bears their names in silence,
names the stream forgot long ago.
 
This last one shows my concern for environmental quality, which began before poetry became a passion and continues today.
 
Moonscape
 
The full moon obliterates
all but the brightest stars.
She casts shadows
on urban monoliths,
home to rats and divas.
 
Rainbows form and dissolve:
Neon stars announce coming events.
COLD BEER
SANDWICHES
SPICY BIKINI BAR
 
Alleys clog with dust.
Grit polishes glass.
I shade my eyes against smoke and soot.
Wind shakes neon signs.
 
The full moon rules above the skyline.
Despite burning questions about combustion,
downtown is looking up.
 
This post previously appeared in https://rayzimmerman.substack.com, my Substack newsletter.   The Substack version included a downloadable PDF with several of my Southern Light poems.
 
The blog on my website has a collection of fall photographs. Rather than the multicolored hillsides typical of fall photographs, I searched for perfect tiny scenes such as individual leaves and an acorn sitting in a bed of moss. https://www.rayzimmermanauthor.com/the-rains-come/fall-photos-2024.
 
The publisher has sold out of the initial print run of my new book, It’s Just a Phase. I am promised that a second print run will soon be available. https://walnutstreetpublishing.com/product/its-just-a-phase/.
 
The Chattanooga Chapter of the Joseph Campbell Mythological Society has asked me to emcee the 2024 production of their solstice celebration at Grace Episcopal Church, on December 15 at 6:00 PM. The event is not well publicized, but all are welcome. I still have a few spots open for anyone wishing to share stories of rebirth and bringing the light.
 
May the holiday season bring you joy and a return to your sense of wonder.
 
Merry Christmas,
Ray Zimmerman