Always in August
Always in August Festooned in flaming trumpet vine and daylilies, tomatoes just coming on, really, and afternoons still bearing down on our…
Read MoreCategory: Poetry
Sweet By and By
Sweet By and By I am a mayfly, blue-winged olive here one day then gone, entire life spooled out over a sunlit…
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At the Hands of a Poet
At the Hands of a Poet Neruda heats me up with “I want to do with you what spring does with the…
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The Sound of a Marching Band Always Did Make Me Cry A Little
The Sound of a Marching Band Always Did Make Me Cry a Little The click and throb of a drum corps slays…
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Eyes Lifted
Eyes Lifted Bruised sky, purpled breath of a fall late in coming. Rain dribbled windows smear the catalpa tree, emerald to…
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The Ocean of You Never Changes
The Ocean of You Never Changes Look inside. You will see it’s true. Even when you were very small, birds held the…
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Almost Home
Almost Home Urging my brother’s car north, away from the hot and straining airport, I will the flat land to pass away…
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Come October
Come October Come October, I seem, always, to be meeting my self again, as if I’ve been away or forgotten to…
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And Haven’t Things Always Been Falling Down Around Us
And Haven’t Things Always Been Falling Down Around Us Come. Forty years gone, I can still show you the ruins we used…
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The Names of Things
The Names of Things All this desperate searching, striving, buttoned up to your chin in absolutes. For you, brother, I say…
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