Category Archives: Uncategorized

unlike x or y, which can be,the online dictionary quiz implies,so I rack my brain for words—victor, va-va-voom, environment— and then root around for the silent x—well, faux pas, but that’s French.Because I cannot conjure silent y words,I hurl myself … Continue reading →

What we call morninggleams down the throatof this purple beauty, as if lit from within,opening its larynx soits vocal cords can sing the day awake,which I’ve gotten upand outside to see, unusually, notexpecting this glow,or the sound of the windless … Continue reading →

Not the Jerry Garcia type, but the gardening one,grabbing clippers and heading out to the yardto nip the spent buds, toss them on the grassso they might be picked up later, of pinching the shriveled pink bits that only days … Continue reading →

The baby born on my 29th birthdayis having a baby today, and, though I am not there, as I waswhen my niece made her debut I do not mind. That day, almost36 years ago, taught me how difficult it is … Continue reading →

It feels like a moment ago—not years—when I delivered books of her poetry to her shortly before her death, put a copyin her hands, watched the skin stretched thin over her knuckles as she strokedthe glossy cover of the slender … Continue reading →

Hose in hand, watering plantsin Mom’s back yard on a day somild it hardly qualifies as summer,I look up at the tree that’s grownthere for decades, dark greenleathery leaves shading oblong’quats snuggled in trios, some ofthe fallen already underfoot. And, … Continue reading →

Come for me now, World—whatever is near, come close.I have been over the waterand lived there all alone. —William Stafford (1914–1993)excerpt from “Looking Across the River” in “The Darkness Around Us Is Deep” ••• It’s time to re-enter the worldknowing … Continue reading →

We, too, are made of wonders, of greatand ordinary loves…— Ada Limón, from “In Praise of Mystery: A Poem for Europa” We catalog the great loves,tucking them into the heartspace,hoping they never disappear,even when those we love have. We sigh … Continue reading →

Taking the hands of someone you love…—Robert Bly I had a much older friend years ago,who, when she got excited,when she wanted to make a point, she’d grab my hands—not just my fingers, but graspmy whole hands firmly in hers— … Continue reading →

Alone on my evening walk,images start to stack uplike pebbles, words fall into the pile, too,prompting a wish forpen and paper, because the old hard drive in my headis full and can’t snag what’srunning through it, so I pull out … Continue reading →