Author Archives: janishaag

for Rebecca Made by her mama in Grandma’sJello mold, just the way G made it—with canned fruit and whipped creamto dab on top— served at her mama’s house aftera fine dinner out, a childhood favoriteof this kid now 45, tall … Continue reading →

for Mary Tsukamoto (1915–1998) The sweet-faced older womansat with me for hours tellingthe story she’d relayed hundredsof times. She taught me the word “redress”the same year she testified beforeCongress, quietly but firmly,one of 120,000 sent into exilein 1942 for the … Continue reading →

Don’t let them tell you poetry is for the birds.—Lawrence Ferlinghetti(1919–2021, owner of City Lights Booksellers and Publishers) But it is, Larry. (Can I call you Larry? I’m sure I didn’twhen I interviewed you years ago atyour place—half bookstore, half … Continue reading →

C’mon, you can do it.Put a little love in your heart.Spread it around on this daythat celebrates the simpleact of being kind to others. Let’s make the worlda little brighter, a little betterwith a gentle gesture, a smile,a friendly word … Continue reading →

Inside the river there is an unfinishable storyand you are somewhere in itand it will never end until all ends—Mary Oliver from “What Can I Say” Of course, the river’s story never ends,even if its bed lies dry and stony—it … Continue reading →

you remember treasured liplocks,moments of sweaty anticipation,knowing that there is nothing elsebut this instant, someone’s butterfly lipsmeeting yours in frenzy or tenderness. And, no matter what follows—recallingyour lips brushing your grandmother’s paperycheek, the joyful leaping licks of a dogdelighted by … Continue reading →

We know that they walk with usevery day—or maybe they flit, fly, flutter by in the wingéd thingsor in winking bits of light. We feel them more often thanwe speak of them, the dearly departed, because who wantsto hear one … Continue reading →

The former dead guyresurrected four years agoeats his favorite crabsandwich in Bodega Bay,on his 80th birthday, then drives us up the coaston an afternoon so blusteryit knocks us sidewaysas we maneuver ruggedsteps down to the blacksand of Shell Beach where … Continue reading →

We all want to belongto someone, something,sometime, and the deft eyewink ofthe apostrophe affirmsconnection: the girl’s notebookthe girls’ soccer teamthe boy’s pianothe boys’ campout the art of belonging to oneor more than one. But it’s more than that:A bit of … Continue reading →

He long ago dubbed the daybefore we leave on a tripfor the rushing, the packing,the cleaning, the last-minutenessbefore departure, when, if we’re going to board a plane,the imperative of packing tightlyresults in late-night fussingand too-little sleep. But, when driving, say, … Continue reading →