Falling in Love Again
My father was a jazz fan who collected LPs in the 1940s and 50s and was known to stay up late into the night listening to his newest acquisitions. This made for difficult early mornings because his day job was a banker and loan officer. These details were related to...
Hold on
to snowfall moments. Wear Spring’s damp quilted padding. We don’t need the sky every day of our lives singing the sun like a choir. We don’t need a seat In the sunlight. Lift your face to gray, and feel the tattered patches of snow like wishes falling on your face...
Small breaking
It’s March, but the ice isn’t breaking yet. Yesterday a long ray of sun reached in, woke me to memory. Now evening is one long silence to savor like the moment before you tap the crust of crème brule, just before its small breaking opens to something delicious. But...
Persephone Unhinged
Lazy topsoil flushed away, too thin to hold seed. Rain keeps time, pounding tender nubs who don’t know their knobby tulip heads should turn red or yellow by now. Even earthworms can’t hold on. I whisper up to the lawn Don’t do it again. Green is so mundane. Why not...
Heading out for a visit to San Marcos, Guatemala, to meet our first grandson.
Here’s a poem I wrote about the place during last year’s trip. Viento Someone practices trumpet in barrio one afternoons when whitecaps race like leaping fish across Lake Atitlan. It seems an unlikely time for a wind instrument, when most people gather twigs and...
Vocations Club
We met on Tuesdays after school with Sister Mary Agnes, the two Mary Lous, Julie, Kay and me to learn about being nuns. The convent sounded good; a room of my own, a single bed, time to think and pray, no fighting over what we'd watch-Bonanza versus Dragnet, or who...