#Americans #Women
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…
Because the shad are swimming in our waters now, breaching the skin of the river with their
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
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
Into the gravity of my life, the serious ceremonies of polish and paper and pen, has come this manic animal
January Contorted by wind, mere armatures for ice or snow, the trees resolve to endure for now,
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…
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
When I taught you at eight to ride a bicycle, loping along beside you as you wobbled away
We invent our gods the way the Greeks did, in our own image’but magnified. Athena, the very mother of wisdom, squabbled with Poseidon
My husband gives me an A for last night’s supper, an incomplete for my ironing, a B plus in bed. My son says I am average,
Some say it was a pear Eve ate. Why else the shape of the womb,
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,
I want to write you a love poem as headlong as our creek after thaw when we stand
