Buddy
My dog is old. His legs are going. Soon he won’t be able to support himself, and when he can …
Previous articles
The Idea of Love
Daylight cracks with the sound of crows. I cannot taste saffron anymore, still, I do like the color it gives …
How Shall We Afford Our Costly Seasons?
Rain falls like a fine net over the hills. The whole of our lives we are weather. Oh how to …
Stargazer
Another older poem… We used to run through the orange grove eyes shut tight, arms churning, trying to think like …
Eulogy Owed
An older poem reposted… I owe you a eulogy. There wasn’t the chance to see you leave, to hold you …
Goodbye to the Cross Court Topspin Lob
After Bob Hicok The cartilage is gone. I am left with some unfinished poems, a stack of books and a …
Journey
After Stanley Kunitz Ambition grieved, history stagnated, it was a ruinous time. My heart became a stone, a stuttering rock …
Storm
After Mark Strand Misfortune arrives on heavy wooden wings The chosen few can pass this night of gales floating in …
Meanwhile
Gray is the shade of the day, it settles over everything, a fine dusting of dull light. The streets are …
A Piece of the Blizzard
Mystery Not one to be solved but to be lived. It is certainly that, and something else, something we want …
Poetry on the run 