Archives for posts with tag: Long Island

Christina M Rau reads The Gatsby Anthology

PHOTOGRAPH: Poet Christina M. Rau reading The Great Gatsby Anthology in a park that overlooks Long Island’s Manhasset Bay — the body of water Gatsby gazed across at Daisy’s green light. Her poem “Once Again, to Zelda” appears in the collection.  (Photo by Anthony Rau.)

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR ABOUT HER POEM: After years of reading The Great Gatsby over and again, and then teaching parts of it here and there, the underlined passages and marginalia have taken over my only copy, and I refuse to get a new one even though this one is pretty over- used and beaten up. That’s how I like my books. In thinking about honoring this book, my favorite for many reasons, I couldn’t find my own words to do it justice. And so, I pored through the pages, copying all the underlined passages. Then I found which lines worked the best with others. Then I focused on rhythm, squaring up quatrains in a neat sequence to retell the essence of Gatsby. The repetition of each strategically chosen quote builds a tone that should mimic the tone by the end of the novel.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Christina M. Rau is the author of WakeBreatheMove (Finishing Line Press,  2015)  and For The Girls, I (Dancing Girl Press 2014). She founded the reading circuit Poets In Nassau on Long Island, New York, and her poetry has recently appeared in The Main Street Rag and Till The Tides: An Anthology of Mermaid Poetry (Sundress Publications). She practices yoga occasionally and line dances on other occasions. (Photo by Kaeti Wigeland)


Poets & Writers

 A Life Of We

Yoga, Write, Tea, Repeat





Where I Return
by Despina Karvounis

wild peach blossoms visit once a year
in announcing the hope of spring

legends awake in baseballs fields
once covered with trees

kids laughter at parks rekindling
willful pride in freshly cut lawns

picket fences and slanted roofs
a welcoming smile . . .

there are no strangers here, all
have, blended in friendly greetings

The tree at the backyard has assumed
the pose of a philosopher

climbing ivy snuggles it tight
it dresses the branches remaining

faithful, when leaves in red and gold
adorn the ground bright

winter frost paints it all a dreamland
in ambiance of white stillness

at first it may seem just, and only a place
just like, any other place under the stars

But, I, anew, I, where . . . A place
a heart within me enchanted.

IMAGE: “Springtime on Long Island” by Dora Sofia Caputo. Prints available at

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Our home is on Long Island, New York. We have a tiny garden in our backyard. It  includes a fig bush, a  peach tree, and two evergreens. On the tallest evergreen hangs a tire swing. The third evergreen fell when Hurricane Sandy hit our area. The stump that remains has the shape of a heart.  I think it keeps on expanding . . .

PHOTOGRAPH: “Wild Peach Blossoms” by Despina Karvounis.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Despina Karvounis is a painter and poet who recently started experimenting with photography. She resides on Long Island, New York.

Author photo: Self-portrait in pink smock.

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Photo: “Temple of Love,” Old Westbury Gardens, Long Island, by cmykgirl, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED