Cat vs. Fauci
This poem is at least seventy years old and probably older than that. It has absolutely nothing to do with coronavirus and yet I can’t read it any other way.
MoreThis poem is at least seventy years old and probably older than that. It has absolutely nothing to do with coronavirus and yet I can’t read it any other way.
MoreTwo poems from Holly Wren Spaulding’s new collection Familiars found their way to northern Michigan, courtesy of an elf sub, my daughter Lizzie. Spaulding hails from northern Michigan and returns there each summer to teach, so it seemed a good spot, even if the pictures don’t exactly replicate the settings in each poem. (You […]
MoreAfter the year we’ve had—and I’m talking about 2021—any poem that offers light in darkness is a welcome guest in my head. But this one is just beyond. So beautiful, so un-treacly, so begging to be read out loud and memorized, so seasonally and emotionally timely.
MoreWe’ve nearly reached the end, folks. The last day of our terrible no-good very bad year. To close out this series, I’ve selected a gentle poem, May Sarton’s “House of Gathering.” It’s like a deep cleansing breath. I taped it to a bench in a complex where my friend Sister Pat, 80 and going strong, […]
MoreAnyone still here? The countdown series is winding down—only four more days. The poems will be dark for the next seventy-two hours but I promise to close out 2020 on a positive note. Today we look at the forgotten sister of the Family Annus Horribilis, climate change. Just as ugly as her siblings but […]
MoreWith only nine days left in 2020, I’m here to celebrate the end of toxic politics in 2021! Just give me ten minutes to land my spacecraft on planet Earth and the festivities will begin. Alas, hate-filled political divides aren’t going anywhere. But before we enter into any poisonous conversations over the holidays, […]
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