My corner. My alma mater. Your street. This endangered fish. Even when we are patronizing we say Sure, honey like of course poetry matters. Polo, quilting, Côtes du Rhône.…
Ice Glen, a side trip on our trip to see old friends. Our plan—a hike, and then there was the thought of Hawthorne and Melville, a century before, and…
Dwarf plants, brittle green, A premature llama, a white giraffe Splashed clean, a pouter pigeon With an inflatable crop. These are the limit of my estate. The first pouter…
Night, the street, the lamp, the drugstore, An empty and toothless light. Live another twenty years more— There’s no way out. No use to fight. You die; rebirth is…
Standing here at the kitchen sink washing the breakfast dishes, I can see this favorite yellow coffee cup of mine, brought back from Italy ten years ago, will break…
A saturated past his nod, that untaught, I’d known sacred slant and tilt, in silence, spoke a red blaze to the green man, unmoving and dark as a forest…