Everyone said the place was haunted. But after the week I had, I didn’t care. The old house was secluded, and I needed to be alone. Dad got drunk for the third time that week. He yelled. I yelled back. My sister hid. Mom cried....
Read MoreIn cities tongues waggle more than they ought crows the blacksmith. Listen to the leaves recite their benedictions in the weak autumnal light. They clamber over themselves to be better heard by willing ears. Please be naked to...
Read MoreThe spark has been quenched like a firefly whose belly has been emptied of light. No more gold for me says the fly. No more chartreuse eyes that wink at the moon. But Jason knows he will find the fleece in its beaming rays hung...
Read MoreThe ominous text arrived on a Friday evening in mid-April. My sister-in-law had just called the rescue squad because my 79-year-old brother had fallen and hit his head while coming in from their deck. He had a subdural hematoma...
Read MoreForty years ago On a winding Quebec road An old woman baked bread In a roadside rock Carved out to hold an oven She was nonchalant As she served the bread With melting maple butter That dripped down our chins We were in awe of...
Read MoreThe true sound of spring: Raindrops drumming, gently On metal porch roof Porch time in spring means Sipping hot tea with a book Wrapped in a blanket By summertime it’s Insistent cacophony Of evening storms Thunder mixed...
Read MoreThere is no tombstone Your ashes rest with Dad I visit you here Our last long talk was On the path that lead to this Safe shore It is here where I Feel your presence deepest and Know you are at...
Read MoreI’ve seen Notre Dame, Chartres, and Sainte-Chapelle but the holiest place on earth, I think, is in the dapple shade of those giant redwoods, there at the brink of heaven. Defended by the spotted owl, envious loggers can only...
Read MoreIt could have been hilarity, it could even have been rage, that bellowing that rang out across the busy street— It could have been a woman, it could have been a child— I could have turned my head to see, but so intent was I on...
Read MoreFor Diane Wakoski Oh, my Beatrice you break like waves each one unique often criss-crossing and successive waves canceling the retreat of the ones before Each crashing wave the same roaring cries of love love love each a...
Read MoreWas that a smile upon her lips, that stranger I just passed— who transfixed me with the rhythm of her hips— does she look back? Likely not, but what she leaves behind is her scent—for me—alone—to find. Thus I pass into her...
Read MoreThere are twenty-five women in the room. One man. And he looks very depressed. Did he lose an argument with his wife? Is she taking a meeting to close a deal that will guarantee their future, the brand new Lexus, the vacation in...
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