Author: admin

Finally the tourists go, The young girls with their figs and honey, Young men who squat exposing their privates, Small children drowsy, Old men and women leaving at best a few pennies. Tonight the moon rises like ivory against...

Crying clown, why have I always loved you? Because you also laugh, because I played puppets as a child and a clown was my favorite. And the Punch and Judy shows, the sock and rock, the way they never parted, playing...

after Picasso Emerging from a cave the half and half creature turns a huge black head to us, shocks with fierce eyes. White horns curve from an armored brow. The minotaur’s muscular arms and hands, pale as mine, hold a horse...

My 39-year-old self had no idea what my 70-year-old mother’s body was screaming when she opened her eyes in the ICU and said, I’m in agony. Multiple arteries rerouted to her drowning heart, pain meds reduced to keep that muscle...

Not a tree really. Moved out to a deck every spring, back in when fall bites and dark drops. Mother once said, The low forties shocks the roots. Wouldn’t want your roots shocked, would you? As I moved my jolted roots, from a...

ODE TO MY PANDEMIC AMARYLLIS I coddle the ochre-umber knob of you into the old goldfish bowl I’ve stoked with compost, set you on the sill above the sink, so as I scrape plates and suds tumblers, I can overlook the fear that’s...

Today abates its pace, places its attention on my need for her embrace, though given that chagrin still occupies my chair, I’ve scant chance to reignite our love affair, make my stance less doctrinaire. I want abandon and I...

Spring unfolds—a dystopian novel. A give-back for denying the environment. Kids stay home, squabble, zip-locked into stifling compliance. Ubiquitous—the disinfectant spritz of income insecurity. And the curve of...

The view of the Oxbow in the Connecticut River, from Mount Sugarloaf, is captivating, and the crack of lobster shells answer one another, as we draw out the sweetness of the red and white meat from their exoskeletons, as our...

I bought a bunch of Russian kale at the farmer’s market. I noticed it as I would a friend who had gone unseen for years— almost missing it in passing, but having just the sight of it stop me in my steps— and in one fluid motion,...