Poetry

If I had a dog-eared journal —its silk page marker wagging through the collection of Dickensian hardbacks on my office shelf, its face veneered with the dust of Saturdays—I […]

this is the Mother Theresa I know: eyes folded in on themselves, the bags beneath, doughy clouds of doubt swinging back and forth like a constant thurifer. this, and the […]

That I rose up this morning like an Ozymandias—putting on that deep red plaid wool LL Bean I love and scurrying down in comically large moose slippers to […]

I am sitting now—finally— between the droning chapters of a falling week and a rusty Afghan. The sun has deigned to visit. You know the scene: our Grandmother “Rest Her […]

There’s little I recall of being small and the gentle tide of frothy insignificance that buoys young men and storybook friends. What mind’s eye sees, it sees in […]

I have this fantasy what fades like fog, and beneath a straw-thatched roof it begins: the pleat of reeds like the pages of a book fall […]