Ruth’s at an age where she’s happy to sit in the sun under a patio umbrella and watch a line of ants

You won’t find poetry anywhere unless you bring some of it with y… said Joseph Joubert, a French writer whose day job was working for Napoleon.

Dad hit me only once, an uppercut to the solar plexus. It nearly lifted me off my feet. I was 17 then and already fairly tall, 6’1.” He was 48 and of medium height, 5’8,” a fireplug who...

The soup kitchen opens an hour late. The rain finally stops and the hungry file in. They’ve had a long wait.

Some say none. Others say one. Some say three in one and then say one of the three

There are poems everywhere but you have to find them, a teacher told my class long ago. I was a kid sitting at a desk, cowlicks sprouting from my scalp,

Wonder Woman they call Sylvia, who excels at raising money to put child abusers in prison. The money she raises allows attorneys to prosecute

Raul is a kind man who plays marimba in a salsa band at LA clubs late into the night. Some afternoons he plays

When you were a boy in 1948 living on a block of bungalows in Chicago right after WWII you had a red wagon you pulled behind your mother

Although we’ll never again be body to body or mind to mind, you and the place and the years are alive every night in the lette… I’ve stored in my room.

No one goes to the patio now except at night when Ann goes out to spread old bread and sunflower seed on the small table for birds

I never remember year to year but then some morning in March I’ll walk out in the yard

When you have an hour to live what matters then is Christ in a pyx in the vest pocket