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

Thursday, September 26, 2013

If You Knew

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What if you knew you'd be the last to touch someone? If you were taking tickets, for example, at the theater, tearing them, givin...
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Thursday, September 19, 2013

To the Harvest Moon, the Fall Equinox, and with love to my mom on her 80th birthday!

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Autumn Grasses In fields of bush clover and hay-scent grass the autumn moon takes refuge The cricket's song is gold Zes...
Saturday, September 14, 2013

The Presence In Absence

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Poetry is not made of words. I can say it's January when it's August. I can say, "The scent of wisteria on the second flo...
Monday, September 2, 2013

Seamus Heaney you will be dearly missed ~

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Postscript And some time make the time to drive out west Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore, In September or October, when t...
Monday, August 19, 2013

For Shiloh - Magnificent Border Collie ~ 1997-2013

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I Ask Percy How I Should Live My Life Love, love, love, says Percy. And hurry as fast as you can along the shining beach, or the r...
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