#Americans #Women
I remember what my father told me: There is an age when you are most… He was just past fifty then, Was it something about the trees t… There is an age when you are most…
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
When I taught you at eight to ride a bicycle, loping along beside you as you wobbled away
Some say it was a pear Eve ate. Why else the shape of the womb,
I sing a song of the croissant and of the wily French who trick themselves daily back to the world
Into the gravity of my life, the serious ceremonies of polish and paper and pen, has come this manic animal
I have banked the fires of my body into a small but steady blaze here in the kitchen where the dough has a life of its…
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
I want to write you a love poem as headlong as our creek after thaw when we stand
What we want is never simple. We move among the things we thought we wanted: a face, a room, an open book
Pierre Bonnard would enter the museum with a tube of paint in his pocket and a sable brush. Then violating the sanctity of one of his own frames
The door of winter is frozen shut, and like the bodies of long extinct animals, cars lie abandoned wherever
The gathering family throws shadows around us, it is the late afternoon Of the family. There is still enough light
Because the shad are swimming in our waters now, breaching the skin of the river with their