Now What’s the Matter?
Now what’s the matter? I thought, in the still-dark kitchen with my water glass hearing a recurring noise like a creak in my seventy-year-old house. But after…
Returning on a Summer Day
It’s June again and the tide’s rising as a pod of silvered monodon flash like a remnant on the Atlantic. Pen in hand, I contemplate the photo…
Rural Requiem
For Margaret Eddowes Now’s the time to set sorrow to a song, While all the days of summer start, And renew the duties that belong To feeling,…
An Aspiring Architect Goes to Washington
After Dana Gioia He pondered the architecture when he visited Washington, pondered its form and its meaning. He had grown tired of the ugly post offices and…
Looking for the Perfect Present
In a bookstore, searching for a gift, the book that will never be forgotten— but everything can be forgotten. In a forest, therefore, looking for the confusion…
Looking at Art
Art is a means of communication with people - Mussorgsky I look at art —American Indian, Minoan, Weimar Republic art— and it is beautiful, beautiful, beautiful… all…
Tribute to Bonhoeffer: A Poem
I. Cheap grace, the gift that keeps giving Boundless and free It justifies continued sinning For its blessings flow for all eternity Grace with no corresponding cost…
Time Caught in the Broken Things
We thought those old cars could never die smiles grimly given tobacco juice brown and bitter curses drawled under the breath the foundation of things. --broken crankshaft,…
To Young Artemis
Divine huntress, in your chase of things wild over the mountains of Kynthos and of the world, chase for fame, gold, greatness, glory —overabundant to qualify for…
The Wisteria Bush
Because of a welcoming new guest inside him whose loving he adopts as his own with gratitude, this year, after living with his wisteria bush and its…
Looking up from Sonnet 116
Its presence there hadn’t struck me before, But I like to see the ladder where I left it, Legs splayed between the orange trees: Now that all…
A Blackbird Feeding
Homage à Guillaume Apollinaire A busy female blackbird of the colour Of the piled dry grass clippings She stands in and flings aside, Appears to find in…
