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Fear not deathwhen it comes for you.Death is not a monster, not even a master, buta servant having no morechoice in the taking of youthan you have in ..
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As a childyou carry itlike a ball and chain,all day long,slowing life itself.It seemed eternitytill the next birthday,and it took forever after you fi..
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When a man loves a woman,holds her flesh to his fleshand feels bound to the earth,is that not the love of God?When a mother clutches infant,amazed, be..
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We sat at the kitchen tablein his small house sited next to the neighbor's orchard(where we later picked apples--it was a good-hearted neighbor)when I..
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English is not a languageone can ever get ahead of--there are just too many words!Like 'ludic' for example:meaning playful, as inspontaneous withouta ..
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I spent part of 1973-74 teaching in Cambodia-- this poem is my reaction to the terrible genocide inflicted by the Khmer Rouge on some of the gentlest ..
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I did not know how brave she was,ninety-two and I, seventy less,so young that old agewas textbook stuff:a fact of life,but not mine.I was alive and fr..
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Since men usually die first, I wondered how it might be when my wife and I find ourselves in different worlds.
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Little wildflowers of spring blanket my backyardtill the mower comes.Reluctant leaves fallfrom the old tree showeringan old man walking.(c. 2012)
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A few words on my poem making as I turn inexorably into the home stretch of this life.
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