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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
News & Announcements
About the Poets
Additional Reading
Renee Carter Hall

Renee Carter Hall's poetry and fiction have appeared in numerous print and online publications, and her poetry has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.  She has also served as editor of the poetry journal Limestone Circle, which ceased publication in 2002 after four successful years.  She lives in northern Virginia with her husband and welcomes correspondence at renjef @

Renee's poetry is featured in
a Passage through August's main anthology.


Escher Exhibit

A man in a gray business suit
looks at water flowing up--
turns around,
and laughs.
 2002 Renee Carter Hall


Renee Carter Hall


Origami Puzzle 

He folds the paper
again and again,
turning the white square
over, folding
corner to corner, trying

to make something emerge.
He says he is missing
one step--once he remembers,
each fold will crease into place;
the wings, the triangular head
will all be there.

A thousand will grant
one wish, it's said, but
what must one do to be
granted one
paper crane?

 2002 Renee Carter Hall
Why I Had to Have the Grill

Because all it takes is the scent of charcoal
smoky and stinging in humid air,
and I'm ten again, Saturday night, Hee Haw
on TV, and Mom's got potatoes baking
in the oven, each one wrapped in foil like a present,
waiting for butter or Cheez Whiz and bacon bits,

and she's slicing cucumber into little pieces
for my salad, no tomatoes, and Dad's
at the grill, tending the fire like ancient people must have
when fire was something to be guarded, even worshipped,
and I'm waiting, hungry, thinking how good it feels
to be hungry when a steak is almost ready
and will soon be medium, still pink inside,
on your plate, just the way you like it,

and nearly fifteen years later, I am keeping an eye
on the hot dogs that are plumping and blackening in the heat,
gaining confidence to move soon to hamburger, chicken, steak--

and I know the charcoal scent will linger
in my hair, in the house, and I close
my eyes against the stinging smoke,
and it is summer, and there is no year in the date.

 2002 Renee Carter Hall