Category: Traveling
-
Winter in Frenchtown
If you have visited only in the summer, the weight of snowfall on this strip between the big and little lakes must surprise you. Winter here makes summer seem impossible — children running down dunes with nothing but swimsuits, beach towels tied like a capes, tiny sails on the horizon, or closer, Sunfishes capsizing into…
-
Day 7
I stand on this track awaiting movement, opening to suggestion, as many before, I leave one thin layer of gray dust
-
Trinity Grille, Denver
The waiter doubts me, a worn heap retreating into simplicity and slight self-abnegation. I prepare myself to fold into the priestly realm of sleep. Do I look like a stewardess tonight, drinking my white wine and sipping my French onion soup (in this bar, at this time of night, overstating the feminine)? But I am…
-
The poet’s house
Spare enough for frozen flower branches to scratch the icy kitchen window, rain-soaked goldenrod to brush against her dress, evenings of lost, tender fears spying down the empty lane, long, hot afternoon delays, awaiting a dry spell to take up the mowing, the mending, the swinging. Wide open, ever-joyful tedium. The birches down the pasture…
-
End of season
It is as I notice the half-used garlic bulb on the window sill, papers torn and frayed,
Poems from in between 