Natasha Trethewey

Fall clean-up

Here’s the thing about my small folder of poems about death. Having more than one poem about death is like  getting a bag of zucchini from your neighbor—you don’t know what to do with an overload. (I’m just realizing this very second that owning, not to mention labeling,  a small folder of poems about death is […]


Soon and very soon

March 1912                               –Postcard, en route westward by Natasha Trethewey   At last we are near breaking the season, shedding our coats, the gray husk   of winter.  Each tree trembles with new leaves, tiny blossoms, the flashy   dress of […]