Prune. Make room for summer's blooms. Say GoodbyeIReallyLovedYou. Burn, then walk away. A poem, by Naomi Shihab Nye: Burning the Old Year Letters swallow themselves in seconds. Notes friends tied to the doorknob, transparent scarlet paper, sizzle like moth wings, marry the air. So much of any year is flammable, lists of vegetables, partial… Continue reading Day One
Category: Poetry
You—like us—great for an instant
Forgive me, I am someone who seeks out synchronicity---that is, confirmation that I am where I am meant to be, in this exact moment in life and time. It's silly (is it?), but I need it (why?). Last night, driving away from Portland, Ian turned the radio to a local station playing jazz. "Do you… Continue reading You—like us—great for an instant
Answers
Mark Strand has died. His was among the first American poetry I read as a teenage girl (apart from the obligatory Robert Frost of my childhood schooling). I was looking for Answers and Alternatives and poetry often pointed the way into and out of myself. In true teenage fashion, I especially sought those words I… Continue reading Answers
As the hand I could have written with flew away from the wrist…
Sky Burial by Ron Koertge Q. You're Such a Disciplined Writer. Were You Always That way? A. When I was in graduate school, I worked part-time at a local library. I ran the used bookstore in the basement. The money came in handy. There was plenty of time to study. I learned to know the… Continue reading As the hand I could have written with flew away from the wrist…