SECTION EIGHT
POETRY PAGE TWO

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COLUMN SIXTY-TWO, AUGUST 1, 2001
(Copyright 2001 The Blacklisted Journalist)

THE HOUR IS BLUE

Julia Tavalaro, 66, who suffered a stroke in 1967, has been a wheelchair-bound quadriplegic ever since.  Unable to speak or to move but with her mind intact, she can, however, turn her head enough to activate a switch with her chin, accessing the alphabet on the screen of her "Vanguard." With the "Vanguard", a communication device manufactured by the Prentke Romich Company of Wooster, Ohio, she accordingly writes poetry every day at the Beach Terrace Nursing Center in Long Beach, New York, where she is confined.  Herewith is one of her manuscripts, a poem entitled, The Hour is Blue. For a longer poem by Julia Tavalaro. entitled Print Out Blocks, click on /column70l1.html .

  Take off sky!
And leave me
alone
With grandma floating
just above me
Always
just out of reach
She floats through
purple and gold roses
And calls for me to come
Come come come
come child
I will give you back your hands
Desire was always my own
Is she there?
Can she heal me?
God!
This world is sad
Bones
Plants
Tearful moans
Listening and waiting
Alone
At dusk
The hour is blue
and fading  ##  

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