1. Great poets keep soft palms. There’s no poetry in working your hands until the skin calluses to wood and you can sharpen your fingers...

In autumn, silence must’ve been scattered – top of the maple, where the moon hangs   small and yellow. Gibbous sounds, clinging onto...

To the  bumbling bee   I obliterated yesterday,    the one who stung me on the heel mercilessly and whose life  I stomped out, an enraged...

When I got the news that Mom passed away My being filled with such richness of emotion “How do I feel?” I was asked, and I could not say....

curled coiled motionless either resigned to fate or in revolt a recipient nonetheless small droplets still flee...

Today, He can’t recall Where he got the notion That red ants would not bite him, As if he had some kind of force field or Natural...

In the beginning there was: * I get inspiration from all sorts of places. Books, movies, people, politics… It is a thing that is never in...

Where are the men Who wore tuxes and ties. So impeccably groomed, It brings tears to your eyes. Some were fastidious In their deportment...

I was a child during the Eisenhower Administration, and I thank God for that. Life was simple then. White gloves, pearls, and bangs. We...