the wednesday poem

"There is also in each of us the maverick, the darling stubborn one who won't listen, who insists, who chooses preference or the spirited guess over yardsticks or even history. I suspect this maverick is somewhat what the soul is, or at least that the soul lives close by." - Mary Oliver

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

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Eagle Poem To pray you open your whole self To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon To one whole voice that is you. And know there is more That yo...
Wednesday, November 18, 2009

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My Flaming Hamster Wheel of Panic About Publicly Discussing Poetry in This Respected Forum When I was asked by Poetry to write an article f...
Wednesday, November 11, 2009

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Hailstorm Like a storm of hornets, the little white planets layer and relayer as they whip around in their high orbits, getting more a...
Wednesday, November 4, 2009

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Content Like walking in fog, in fog and mud, do you remember, love? We kept, for once, to the tourist path, boxed in mist, conscious of jus...
Wednesday, October 28, 2009

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Rain – Birdoswald I stand under a leafless tree more still, in this mouse-pattering thrum of rain, than cattle shifting in the field...
Wednesday, October 21, 2009

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The Geese Today as I hang out the wash I see them again, a code as urgent as elegant, tapering with goals. For days they have been crossing....
Wednesday, October 14, 2009

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Sudden Journey Maybe I’m seven in the open field – the straw grass so high only the top of my head makes a curve of brown in the yellow. Ra...
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