Category: Aging
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I think of love
I think of love as something that grows form as it ages, sometimes firm, sometimes round, broadening, ambling if allowed. I think of love as an elemental discovery, unwrapping itself time and again, ever revealing eccentricities, hope, a whipped dog who greets the morning with joy. Yes, even then. I think of love as the…
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From the ether
Late in the afternoon that day, as the low sun pierced the leaves like a thousand glimmering stars, each of my long-dead patients rushed me towards an unexpected, unearned bliss. Of course, it seems shallow how memories, obscured by our endless tasks, doings of this moment or that, can burst into our presence and bring…
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When walking through woods without my father
I am not sure if it is the breeze, wilder, more freeing than any in the city, or the wintergreen sending its scent up to play with the blueberries and pine that brings on this longing afresh. You would perch yourself on a ridge like this one overlooking the lake or a forested horizon, endless…
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Karma
I sat here at this table many years ago. The door was on State then, not Chicago; three shops sold coffee here since. On Tuesday evenings, a homeless man muttered to himself at the window, staring into his coffee, while I ran through course notes at the next table, coughing on his stench, not knowing…
Poems from in between 