In The End, It’s About Love

I wanted to share a few lines from poet Diane Wakoski that do a wonderful job of explaining what poetry has always meant to me. And honestly, I can’t believe I’ve never read this before last night, but with the advent of Covid-19, I have found myself reading more poetry than I typically do (more of everything actually), so I pulled out an old anthology of poems published in 1968

A New Year’s Resolution

Try to approach the year ahead as I approach each moment… 
Connecting with the world before me. 
Immersing myself in the world that immerses me. 

The Art of Shoveling

I’m the best shoveler I know. Seriously. At age sixty-seven I can out shovel pretty much anyone. Need snow cleared or a new garden bed dug… I’m solid. But becoming a prodigious shoveler was not the dream to which I aspired as a youth.

Contemplating Nevada

Nevada D. Holmes was my grandmother’s maiden name… she was my dad’s mom. I remember her as a small, quiet, proper old woman who required quiet behavior inside and controlled behavior outside. It’s not like she yelled at anyone. She just passed her requests on to my father…

Why Put Chang’s Hermitage on the Cover?

A friend of mine asked me why a poem by the Chinese poet Tu Fu is posted on the front of this site, so I thought perhaps others may be curious about that as well. And the answer is that I’ve loved this poem for many years… it’s long been one of my all-time favorites… and it stimulates a kind of merged physical, spiritual, intellectual response in me when I read it.

Mustard Greens Spark Joy For Me

I simply cannot walk by a healthy young Green Wave mustard plant in my garden without plucking a leaf. Then I use my thumb to delicately wipe away any lingering drops of dew or, if already dried by the morning sun, to softly brush away what soil may have splashed up from recent rains and stuck around.

A Baker’s Dozen

Thirteen years. There are so many different ways to think about this number. Some people think of it as unlucky. But me… I’ve decided to think about it as a sort of calendar of possible events. A Baker’s Dozen worth of opportunities to experience the world I now inhabit.