Visitation
Even the spires of milkweed bend over in the low tumble of wind through the prairie, dry reeds tapping hollow …
Category Archives: Robert Frost
Intimacy
What I always wonder in a place like this is how many people have walked this ridge before, over how …
Walk in woods
this morning I yearned to become that yellow leaf twirling down, catching an edge of the sun spinning past
Daywork
no rhythm no long, yearning stanzas no swinging scythe evening hued grasses a hurried social hour a stratagem a standing …
It is what comes after
Though in a world of doubt surrounded, our river plies, churns, hides its own error, misgiving, re-creation, courage of moment, …
City river
How its surface hides the undulation on its bottom; how its edges spill over and are spilled over into. How …
