Three warm peaches lay in a cermaic bowl agaist a black background
Three warm peaches lay in a cermaic bowl agaist a black background
Photo by J. on Unsplash

Stoneground Knuckles | A Poem

i don’t know that you’ve tasted a peach
if you have, it came in a sticky bag that said
because it knew

it was bruised and cracked
the fuzz stiffer than store-bought
chilled by fog
picked while hot
eaten in drips down the forearm
a silence
reserved for only prayers and peaches

broken by the steady buff of the pit
spit into the palm
and pressed to the sidewalk

i read that if I only sat long enough and ground the pit into the cement
i, too could make a peach pit necklace

Moriah Rivera Lawrence on a winter walk near Cheadle Lake Photo Credit: Nick Lawrence

“Spoken Word and Slam Poet | Public Speaker | Freelance Writer | Artist/Painter | DFTBA”

Photo by Florian Glawogger on Unsplash

A Story of Delicate RNA and an Even More Delicate Supply Chain

Temperature requirements are a big deal in the cold storage industry. If the temperature of a given shipment falls too far above or below the acceptable range, it can cause previously perfect goods to degrade in quality, possibly losing the ability to be sold along the way.

This is especially true of the new vaccines developed to fight Covid-19. These vaccines rely on cutting-edge techniques that preserve the delicate messenger RNA that makes the vaccine work. Even so, the vaccine still must be stored at sub-zero temperatures to prevent the shape of the sugars and molecules from being destroyed and…

Photo by Eiliv-Sonas Aceron on Unsplash

5 Interesting Facts about Farming and Agriculture in the United States

Whether you’re not sure if potatoes grow underground or on trees, if chickens have ears, or if you can farm an alligator, these five fun ag facts will fill you in on a few interesting facts about US Farming and Agriculture.

Photo by Usman Yousaf on Unsplash

How Stress Can Make or Break Migraine Tension

If you’ve clicked on this article, you know the feeling. Tired eyes, painful temples, an invisible clamp pressing your ears together. Something about a tension headache just adds another huge hurdle in front of getting your next project started.

My migraines and tension headaches feed off of each other. Late nights at the laptop typing away lead to a sore neck and eyes. The next morning, I’m stressing about waking up with more aura and vertigo again.

Others have noted this phenomenon as well,

“Scientists believe that there is a continuum of headaches, with tension headache at one end and…

Photo by Michael Weidner on Unsplash

My Places | Oregon Water Souls

I remember this pond in Central Oregon. Sifting the sand while the wind blew through the cattails, rustling. Throwing bait to the fish, watching their mouths open and close under the water. Flashing white glimmers in the duckweed. The sun hot on my forehead. The constant smell of Powerbait and duckweed; broken by sips of ice tea.

Photo by Elisa Stone on Unsplash

The Baby Bird Poem

on my stoop again
wet drops slipping down my nose
patter against the lilac leaves
falling seeds
a foggy quiet breeze
filtered light hidden between trees

scrub jay screams; a shock between the leaves
he stops to stare
his feet scraped into the pear
a screeching song of joy he weaves

i wonder if he remembers me
the one i found beneath the tree
a cat-broken hip unset

a ball of puff
a sodden fluff
a tiny screech aloud

handed across the fence
i confess the neighbor set him down
near the nest, we wished him the…

Photo by Liel Anapolsky on Unsplash

A Poem on Humming Above Silence

I have held these bones together a thousand years
the grinding scores
the tears and shears

the light of dawn
stretched between my tendons
taught, drawn
if only believing was strong enough
she would have held herself

but they flow like mercury
flung and shattered
broken battered
skeleton cobbled and strewn

ah well that’s just the storm
isn’t it darling
drops of water falling
the rain pattering my cheek
just inside the open window
why not close it?

if I rest here long enough
sip my coffee drained
I’ll be strong enough
and walk from here again

Moriah Rivera-Lawrence

An Oregonian writer and poet with a knack for the paintbrush and the camera.

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