{"id":5717,"date":"2025-04-30T12:24:00","date_gmt":"2025-04-30T18:24:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/?p=5717"},"modified":"2025-05-01T13:43:38","modified_gmt":"2025-05-01T19:43:38","slug":"bead-by-bead","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/bead-by-bead\/","title":{"rendered":"Bead by Bead"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<pre class=\"wp-block-verse\">At the end of it<br>   my mother grew light.<br>  Seemed hollow the way<br>   bird bones are hollow. <br>Mom could sit forever<br>   at the breakfast table to finger<br>   her silver rosary strung with blue<br>   glass beads that had small pocks<br>As some flower seeds are almost<br>   perfect spheres but fall short<br>   have pocks, flaws. Mom said <br>   her quiet Hail Mary\u2019s decade after decade<br>Until she\u2019d finally doze off somewhere between<br>\u201cThe fruit of thy womb\u201d and \u201cthe hour of our death.\u201d<br><\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>At the end of it my mother grew light. Seemed hollow the way bird bones are hollow. Mom could sit forever at the breakfast table to finger her silver rosary strung with blue glass beads that had small pocksAs some flower seeds are almost perfect spheres but fall short have pocks, flaws. Mom said her [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":5591,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_editorskit_title_hidden":false,"_editorskit_reading_time":0,"_editorskit_is_block_options_detached":false,"_editorskit_block_options_position":"{}","_themeisle_gutenberg_block_has_review":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"art_contributors":[412],"literary_contributors":[433],"class_list":["post-5717","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poetry","art_contributors-woods-christopher","literary_contributors-ruzicka-ed"],"acf":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/wp-content\/uploads\/Man-Emerging-Bellville_72dpi_Christopher-Woods.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5717","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5717"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5717\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5719,"href":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5717\/revisions\/5719"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5591"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5717"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5717"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5717"},{"taxonomy":"art_contributors","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/art_contributors?post=5717"},{"taxonomy":"literary_contributors","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novusliterary.com\/2025-archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/literary_contributors?post=5717"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}