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, December 16, 2009

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All Day I Was With Trees Across wild country on solitary roads Within a fugue of parting, I was consoled By birches sovereign whiteness in s...
Wednesday, December 9, 2009

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Starlings in Winter Chunky and noisy, but with stars in their black feathers, they spring from the telephone...
Wednesday, December 2, 2009

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Winter Twilight On a clear winter's evening The crescent moon And the round squirrels' nest In the bare oak Are equal planets...
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...
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