Motorcycles Because it frightened me to learn my son bought a motorcycle, I sit and read Neruda’s soft rain of words. Because I watch a Harley corkscrew through traffic like a rocket, I observe the slow moon emerge from smoky... Continue Reading →
The First Night The first night, in any new place is always the hardest. You've got to get used to the new mattress, or couch, or floor you're sleeping on. Getting used to the sounds of the building. The nightlife... Continue Reading →
Muse People don’t have the time or the attention span to read any more words than necessary. —Jennie Haskamp Every word breathes necessity. Contrast is the interplay between mundane and eye- catching, the everyday and Pearl Harbor, diet coke and... Continue Reading →
Good Bottle It's a good bottle of wine Dry, with a hint of plum infused aroma of dark Napa soil I am drinking this housewarming gift in my freshly painted kitchen in the middle of the night Lifting the glass... Continue Reading →
Unfinished The centerpiece is a low hedge of gourds and pinecones and holly. Glasses are slicked with wine and lipstick, plates half empty, a fork dropped, chairs pushed away, one fallen on its side, fringed blue rug rucked in a... Continue Reading →
Where I Find Belief In the arms of a spruce, a black-capped chickadee, gray wings flat against its body. Among twigs in the thin crown of the birch moving against distant clouds like the fingers of the blind reading the... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 