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…

I am only leaving you for a handful of days but it feels as thought i will be gone forever the way the door closes

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…

I want to write you a love poem as headlong as our creek after thaw when we stand

The gathering family throws shadows around us, it is the late afternoon Of the family. There is still enough light

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

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

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

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

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…

It was early May, I think a moment of lilac or dogwood when so many promises are made it hardly matters if a few are bro… My mother and father still hovered

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…

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

We think of hidden in a white dres… among the folded linens and sachet… of well-kept cupboards, or just ou… sending jellies and notes with no… to all the wondering Amherst neigh…