Morning Poem # 3

I wrap my towel like a turban around wet locks and suddenly I am ten again, tossing rocks with the new girl who wore a turban and was not allowed to ever cut her hair. We were fast friends, for those short months just shy of summer at the end of our fifth grade year [...]

Morning Poem # 2

In the gradual lightening of day, I wait for words to come. Outside my window, the bright flames of leaves speak the language of planetary tilt and early sunset. Like the widespread skirts of a peasant woman the sky trails tattered bits of clouds; a lone jet streaks overhead. Behind me trail remnants a dream, [...]

19 months

Dear Bean, You sit at my feet making a picture all by yourself with the skinny markers I keep in a jar in my studio. Carefully you uncap each one, recapping it after you have added its color in bright stripes to your page. It is raining out and for a few short moments, we’re [...]

Morning Poem # 1

I open the corral gate to a new day and the white pony of hope gallops out long legged. Both of us are throwing back our heads, pressing our knees to the mud, praising the sun. But shadows grow long, and the sickle of sorrow makes the grass lie down. Things are never what we [...]

"Think In Ways You've Never Thought Before"

I went to hear Robert Bly speak tonight, and felt, after listening to him read in his Minnesota accent, from his newest collection of poems, utterly vibrant. It was a little like touching the glass on an observation beehive, where the warmth from the thousand beating wings transfers instantly into the palm of your hand. [...]