angels
“You are blessed among angels,” I say to myself. “Run out into the snow, lie down, and make yourself some wings.”
Category: my poetry
the river at night
I wonder if conversation does for human beings what the river at night does for the streetlights… it smooths them out, ripples them, attenuates. It lets them be something other than themselves, but still attached to the original. The river at night shows them what they’re not: sparkling, moving, changing.
nogroup
Down at the Mercantile Library, they are getting together a poetry-writing group to meet at Wednesday lunchtimes, or perhaps even only once a month. My initial reaction to this bit of news was, “Eeek! I ain’t going near that!” Since then, I have had a lot of time to reflect on the possibilities of the … Continue reading nogroup
reading
Nobody tells you how to go about the actual daily life of a poet. I had lazily always figured it would “just happen,” and never gave it much thought. So I take a stab at it… Read Louise Glück’s Meadowlands and the new Nikki Giovanni collection, and bought a plain old large notebook, of the … Continue reading reading
white pebble 