The Quiet Is Winnowing Us
byThe Quiet is Winnowing Us The quiet is winnowing what does not belong, exposing the hidden so we can see it, see it for…
Poetry
A Simple Biography
byThat last book caused me more tears than I knew I had in me. The trees turn gold with mystery, although science can explain…
Prayers
byPrayers dance tragically upon cracked city streets and beneath grimy and broken windows of old apartment buildings, where forlorn…
The Gay Divorcee (1934)
byas long as we’re on the subject of dancing & screwball comedies, glamour & the continental maybe i should mention that love requires no…
Meditation on Dusk
byThe driven rhythm of crickets behind sporadic croaking of frogs mesmerizes me. Sitting on the steps of my porch, I wonder at the glory…
Three Poems
byThe Kingdom In constant shiver and hunger in tatters in envy and bliss the kingdom of weeds laps the blond edge…
Playing the Nocturnes: #19 in E minor, Opus Posthumous 71, No. 1: Andante
byBy the time we finally learn, it’s too late: the clock of the body turns over the hours, the days, our faces, like pages…
Hence Smitten
byThis squirrel digs my grave and marks it with an acorn. Years from now, when he’s forgotten all about me, a large tree will…
Praying the Hours at Elkhorn Slough
byGod. Ocean. Sunrise. Whatever I am sitting here between, hello. *** Sea otter profile: backcurved, hooking the tide. Nothing so distinctive –so joyfully learned,…
The Beehive Woman
byThe wise seasoned woman sat on her chair in her bedroom. Her white turban sat on her head like a beehive. I sat on…