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	<title>Good Letters</title>
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	<description>Words. Made flesh.</description>
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		<title>Waiting for Nothing to Happen</title>
		<link>https://www.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/2018/10/waiting-for-nothing-to-happen/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Caroline Langston]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 17 Oct 2018 10:00:18 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Caroline Langston]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Personal Reflection]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Reflection]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Good Letters]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[patience]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[time]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[transitions]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[waiting]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://admin.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/?p=14043</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[When I was in my twenties, toward the end of a not-especially-dissolute but nonetheless untethered youth, there was a period of a few months when I spent a lot of time with a man who had been the big local rock DJ when I was in high school. He had moved into my threadbare downtown [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>Morning in a Forgotten Neighborhood</title>
		<link>https://www.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/2018/10/morning-in-a-forgotten-neighborhood/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Morgan Meis]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 15 Oct 2018 10:00:29 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Morgan Meis]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Personal Reflection]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Reflection]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[addiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[charity]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[depression]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Detroit]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Good Letters]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[guilt]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[humility]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[purpose]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://admin.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/?p=14034</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The other day it was raining. The clouds were impossibly low, skimming the tops of buildings as they scuttled across eastern Michigan on their way to somewhere nice. The rain fell not so much as drops but as a fine, coating mist that moistened rather than drenched. A pack of stray dogs picked their way [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
			</item>
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		<title>Poetry Friday: &#8220;Lord, Sky&#8221;</title>
		<link>https://www.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/2018/10/poetry-friday-lord-sky/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Image]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 12 Oct 2018 10:00:39 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Culture]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry Friday]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Betsy Sholl]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry and politics]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[politics]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Suzanne Nussey]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[vote]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://admin.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/?p=14025</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The compelling narrative of “Lord, Sky,” set during the time of an election, is also sheer poetry. The writer repeats diction (“light,” “sky,” “moon,” “grin”) and layers language (“heaven,” “rainbow,” “stars,” “night,” “midnight”) to invite us “little trees of heaven / stuck in concrete” to pay heed to the world above and around us, to [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>Humans Love Heroes</title>
		<link>https://www.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/2018/10/humans-love-heroes/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Brad Fruhauff]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 10 Oct 2018 10:00:59 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Brad Fruhauff]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Culture]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Personal Reflection]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[christ]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[heroes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[politics]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://admin.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/?p=14013</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[In the video James Corden approaches a podium wearing a dark grey suit and a light grey wig to address a room full of reporters, but instead of making prepared remarks, he launches into song. He’s announcing his indictment of the President, and he and his audience are thrilled. “Robert Mueller’s Indictment Song” is the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>On Writing Odes: Taking Time to Celebrate</title>
		<link>https://www.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/2018/10/on-writing-odes-taking-time-to-celebrate/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Tania Runyan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 08 Oct 2018 10:00:46 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[music]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Tania Runyan]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[autumn]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Keats]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Neruda]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[odes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sharon Olds]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[writing]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://admin.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/?p=14004</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Amidst the constant stream of bad news these days, we would do well to make more time for acknowledging the good things in life. The ode is just that: “a formal, often ceremonious lyric poem that addresses and often celebrates a person, place, thing, or idea,” according to The Poetry Foundation. Unlike other poetic forms [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
			</item>
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		<title>Poetry Friday: &#8220;The Burned Butterfly&#8221;</title>
		<link>https://www.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/2018/10/poetry-friday-the-burned-butterfly/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Image]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 05 Oct 2018 10:00:16 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry Friday]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Anya Silver]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[hope]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Jessica Gigot]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[prayer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[resilliance]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://admin.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/?p=13983</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[My oldest daughter’s was gifted a butterfly garden for her 3rd birthday. We watched the six larvae plump up. Then each formed a chrysalis and after a few weeks all emerged as beautiful, painted lady butterflies. We fed them watermelon and pineapple and when the day came for release, I wasn’t sure my daughter would [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<item>
		<title>The Lost Goodbye</title>
		<link>https://www.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/2018/10/the-lost-goodbye/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Christiana N. Peterson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 03 Oct 2018 10:00:53 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Christiana N. Peterson]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Personal Reflection]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[death]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Good Letters]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mortality]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[regret]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://admin.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/?p=13974</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[You’ve been gone for only hours In a casket made of wood When no one else could save you I thought maybe I still could —“Goodbye” by Sister Sinjin The song catches me off-guard. It is nudged between other songs on an album of ethereal harmonies. Sister Sinjin sounds either like a trio of cloistered [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>A Conversation with Alicia Ostriker: Part 2</title>
		<link>https://www.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/2018/10/a-conversation-with-alicia-ostriker-part-2/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Image]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 02 Oct 2018 10:00:18 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Interview]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Alicia Ostriker]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[body]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[interview]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[material]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Plato]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[time]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://admin.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/?p=13950</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[“When I write a poem, I am crawling into the dark. Or else I am an aperture. Something needs to be put into language, and it chooses me,” says critic, activist, and biblical scholar Alicia Ostriker, whose poetry appears in Image’s recently released issue #98. We asked Ostriker, winner of the Jewish National Book Award [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>A Conversation with Alicia Ostriker: Part 1</title>
		<link>https://www.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/2018/10/a-conversation-with-alicia-ostriker-part-1/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Image]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Oct 2018 10:00:32 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Interview]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Alicia Ostriker]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Good Letters]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[interview]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Judaism]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[time]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://admin.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/?p=13959</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Image issue #98 includes poems by critic, activist, and biblical scholar Alicia Ostriker, winner of the Jewish National Book Award and many others. She has said, “Composing an essay, a review or a piece of literary criticism, I know more or less what I am doing and what I want to say. When I write [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>Poetry Friday: “Bird on Knee”</title>
		<link>https://www.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/2018/09/poetry-friday-bird-on-knee/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Guest Contributor]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 28 Sep 2018 10:30:56 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Guest Contributor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry Friday]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Good Letters]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[image]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Tara Bray]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://admin.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/?p=13890</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Like Emily Dickinson, Bray describes hope as thing with feathers, “an eastern phoebe.” Turning on sound and image, the poem “Bird on Knee” subtly shifts, inflecting new meaning. Each element nests in the other, layered, like a bird perched on a lap. Keening sounds repeat in “lightly,” “knee,” “eastern,” “phoebe,” and “me.” The density and [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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