It is winter now. You can tell because the chimneys proclaim that a new season has begun.The scent of burning pinion rests in the air, even though snow hasn't fallen.The chill in the mornings bites uncovered ears and blushes my cheeks as I collect the firewood. It is winter now. You can tell because the…
Does it matter you hold a cello?The New York Times omits a word. Does it matter you use grammar?Understood is understood. Does it matter you drop a bomb?The rally cry of hate is heard. Does it matter I read the news?My ultimate end is quite assured.
He composed the piece for violabecauselike every composerwho ever composed a piece for viola,he was in love with a violist. I wonder if she knowswhat she createdas his muse. If she celebrates,Or sinks inside herself,when she hears the low C sing. The unmoved moverwith cause of attractionextracting beautyfrom the mind of the manwho remembers her…
A friend of virtuedoesn’t wear the same size shoeOr sit in the cubicle next to you.She didn’t appear because you happened to be alphabetically compatible and sitting in a row. At least that’s not why she was chosen more than other people who wear size 9, or prairie dog in that long-forgotten secretarial pool, or…
Full of joy and laughter and loveMy parents gave me few choresNo ultimatumsI never was groundedOr punishedI learned to criticize myself for every flawAnd correct others creating boundariesWhere I had none. My mother was a musicianA concert harpist who played in four symphoniesOf south LouisianaAnd weddings on most weekendsShe played nearly 10,000 weddings in 40…
"The happiness of a tree that clings to its roots” wrote Nietzsche in 1873A hundred years before I was bornWhen the roots I would cling to were being formed. Let us not cling to the past that our foremothers wrought with iron and wood as they cut down the trees to build cabins that became a neighborhood. Let us not cling, but…
Poets are thinkersMaking an argument For the story they see,Or the world as it should be. Angry, an optimistDisappointed, believerDescribing her hopes, scenesAnd all of her dreams.
And sotempois onceagainmy FLAW Because I can't go slow and wait. And wait. Waiting for you to pace along And catch up. It bores me.
An old couple and their dog were found dead today at their house just up the mountain from me. Whether suicide or CO2, they died together. My mother called me concerned about the dog, poor dog, she said. I said lucky dog, you wouldn’t want to wake up with both your owners dead. She said…
