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The Semantics of Blessings

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August 1, 2008 by Elizabeth Cranford Garcia

Honorable Mention, Poetry Contest

Do not steal my fire and ice, make null
my trial, void it with another name
than pain. The cut of a blade opening to bright red
is revelation, not in later epiphany,
but present sense, the now of living, now of
lava coursing down my throat to scorch my
inside self. I know on my tongue the later coal
will make me glow, the later scar will disappear
as skin stretches old. But that should not erase
the instigation, surprise of not healings,
solitude in grocery stores, noise of
one’s own breathing. Joy is not inserting
catheters in bathrooms I’m too tired
to clean, and I am not immortal yet.


2013: Elizabeth Cranford Garcia has had her work appear in Boxcar Poetry Review, 491 Magazine, Irreantum, Poets and Artists, Blue Lake Review, and Red River Review among others, as well as in a recent anthology, “Fire in the Pasture: 21st Century Mormon Poets”. She also serves as the current editor of “The Reach of Song”, the anthology for the Georgia Poetry Society. She lives in Atlanta with her husband and new baby girl.

2007: A native of the South, Elizabeth Cranford teaches composition and literature at a junior college in Atlanta. She received her BA in humanities from BYU and MA in English literature in a little town in southern Georgia where football is King. She is passionate about the gospel, eating good food without guilt, finding humor in most situations, and convincing young women that being thirty and single is not the end of the world. Besides, single adult dances provide some mighty interesting characters to write about.

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