When our cars touched When you lifted the hood of mine To see the intimate workings under… When we were bound together By a pulse of pure energy,

When they taught me that what matt… was not the strict iambic line goo… over the page but the variations in that line and the tension produ… on the ear by the surprise of diff…

I sing a song of the croissant and of the wily French who trick themselves daily back to the world

Perhaps the purpose of leaves is t… the verticality of trees which we… as if for the first time: row afte… yearning upwards. And since we wil… ourselves for so long, let us now…

We invent our gods the way the Greeks did, in our own image’€”but magnified. Athena, the very mother of wisdom, squabbled with Poseidon

The door of winter is frozen shut, and like the bodies of long extinct animals, cars lie abandoned wherever

Finding a new poet is like finding a new wildflower out in the woods. You don’t see its name in the flower books, and nobody you tell believes

Some say it was a pear Eve ate. Why else the shape of the womb,

What we want is never simple. We move among the things we thought we wanted: a face, a room, an open book

January Contorted by wind, mere armatures for ice or snow, the trees resolve to endure for now,

After Adam Zagajewski I am child to no one, mother to a… wife for the long haul. On fall days I am happy with my dying brethren, the leaves…

When I taught you at eight to ride a bicycle, loping along beside you as you wobbled away

Into the gravity of my life, the serious ceremonies of polish and paper and pen, has come this manic animal

Because the shad are swimming in our waters now, breaching the skin of the river with their