Author Archives: janishaag

I look at them dubiously in their cellophanejacket in the produce section, their zippertantalizingly open to tempt passersbylike me with that tumble of dark rubies,practically daring the shopperto reach in and try one. I never do, assuming that would be … Continue reading →

Maximum cat, you are,I say to the big guy sprawled on his sideon my office floor, where I havejoined him for a time, still getting himused to the idea of me, as togetherwe get used to the idea of not … Continue reading →

(for Clifford Ernest PollandMay 21, 1952–March 19, 2001) You pop in less frequently now,but, when I see a handsome older manwalking into Target, about your height,hair and beard the color of a storybook cloud,I think—not for the first time—that could … Continue reading →

under stars, kabillionsof twinkles, of which I canusually make out only a few dozen, untilI migrate to the sea wherenight waves soften my gaze enough to float methrough the curtain of nightinto the greater universe where I sail effortlesslyon waves … Continue reading →

Now that I’ve given you up,I run into you every time I pop in to drop an envelope into the thin mawof the beast that embraces the mailables, and (please, postal gods) magicallyferries them where they need to go. You … Continue reading →

I have just learned that the wood thrush,a bird that lives 2,000 miles east of its westerncousins near me, possesses two sets of vocal cords, each in its own tiny chamber in the throat,allowing it to sing two distinct notes … Continue reading →

These long nights keeping watch,standing vigil, you carry with youa kind of mantra—not much longer— counting the hours till dawn,peering out the window for the firstsuggestion of morning that signals relief in the form of someone whowill arrive with gentle … Continue reading →

(for my grandmother, Anna Marie Nyberg Haag) My father used to say,“Write when you get work,”long before my sister and I were old enoughto do so. It took yearsbefore I realized that to our father, raised as he wasduring the … Continue reading →

Sometimes, love looks like small things.—Former U.S. Poet Laureate Tracy K. Smith Like bringing the half gallon of milk,though he didn’t ask for it becauseyou knew he’d otherwise have to dampentomorrow’s cereal with water. Like him emailing the photos he … Continue reading →

How rivers and stones are foreverin allegiance with gravitywhile we ourselves dream of rising. —Mary Oliver ••• If I must pledge,let me do so while standing,not with hand over heart, but outside amid the greening,gawking again at the show-offhollyhocks rising … Continue reading →