Dan’s Bugs by Jim Harrison I felt a little bad about the nasty earwig that drowned in my nighttime glass of water, lying prone at the bottom like a shipwrecked mariner. There was guilt about the moth who died when she showered with me, possibly a female. They communicate through wing vibrations. I was careful […]
MoreWhen Giving Is All We Have by Alberto Ríos One river gives Its journey to the next. We give because someone gave to us. We give because nobody gave to us. We give because giving has changed us. We give because giving could have changed us. We have […]
MoreA sunny day in northern Michigan. A long walk past farmland and on to a wooded trail. Three Seamus Heaney poems to deliver, three poems full of the most beautiful nouns and verbs but also full of death. Three watchful deer who scared the bejeebers out of me and two wrong turns that added miles […]
More‘Tis the season to frolic and I’m idle and sluggish. Nothing like a summer cold to sour the sunshine. And nothing like soured sunshine to call forth the de facto fairy godfather of misery, poet Franz Wright. So happened I had six Wright poems to dispose of. Leaving them around the small town in […]
MoreThe Birds Have Vanished Into the Sky by Li Po The birds have vanished into the sky, and now the last cloud drains away. We sit together, the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains. A cable car ride up Austria’s Zwolferhorn led to this view of the […]
MoreA Country Epitaph by William Stafford I am the man who plunged through a river to save his dog; who failed my parents, though; who forgot my grief, and sang. Outside your light I stand. I appeal through careless words, I appeal by this casual stone: Was there more I could have […]
MoreThis is a picture of my sister Josie and her late husband Edison. The poem-elfing that follows is a private one, written and posted as a thank-you to my other sister, Mary K. With Josie’s and Mary K.’s permission, I’m sharing it with you. A little background before you read the poem. Until late […]
MoreShapes by Ruth Stone In the longer view it doesn’t matter. However, it’s that having lived, it matters. So that every death breaks you apart. You find yourself weeping at the door of your own kitchen, overwhelmed by loss. And you find yourself weeping as you pass the homeless person head in hands […]
MoreLament by Louise Gluck Suddenly, after you die, those friends who never agreed about anything agree about your character. They’re like a houseful of singers rehearsing the same score: you were just, you were kind, you lived a fortunate life. No harmony. No counterpoint. Except they’re not performers; real tears are shed. […]
Moreonly the crossing counts by C.D. Wright It’s not how we leave one’s life. How go off the air. You never know do you. You think you’re ready for anything; then it happens, and you’re not. You’re really not. The genesis of an ending, nothing but a feeling, a slow movement, the dusting […]
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