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Erstwhiles,of candle-laboured hours and screwed-up eyes,the quill scratch-scratching, the paper ragged rough, the inkunwieldy, black and..

Sometimes sentiment sublates the stark cold truthOn gravestones, memory's mourning heart to soften;This stony judgement I'd carve for myself:'He..

A still night; crescent moon; the faintest breeze.Some wit might say, 'Peaceful, innit, Tommy? 'Two hours before the usual time for attack.I wonder..

playgroundhigher and higherthe swing squeaking, creakingbut firmthe child laughingtesting the limits of freedomthe freedom of limitssensing but..

Every five years or sosince you were a boy,a slender book ofmaybe a dozen poemsgently human, likea summer seashorelapping at the heart,leaving washed..

How is it, you great ones,when I read your poemswhether withtoo quick an enchantmentor, impatient again,almost giving upin the care to know..

We knew the history of the area, of course;reckoning that with a Heritage Sitejust over the hillplanning permits would be hard to getand the rolling..

Windows nothing readingthus goespretty lettershuman companionimmediatelymentioned richsurreal lifenonsensesurreal poetsmake..

Delicate, so frail now, almostapologetic for their presence,like the longtime bed-boundtaking their first unaccompanied walk,hardly able to believe..

I love a poem thatyou can walk intoas if you know the owner,settle into,wander around,stay a few days,return to visit,find a secret room,and be..

The gate opens easily -someone's oiled it quite recently.There's fresh gravel on the paththis winter day.There's a dog kennel out there anda single..

roses are red(well, some are white) :Saint Valentine sayshe needs poets to write...roses are red(well, some are pink) :Saint Valentine sayshe needs..

see that womanflung over her son's dead bodyhowling from the depthsof her wombwhat has sheto do with waror war with her?* * *if all the mothers in..

just now, todayand for a moment, thusforever,the heaviness of devil-darkened thought,death in some disguise yet to be called out,threatened grey ruin..

She'll love you 'til her dying day,and just to prove itshe'll take it out regularly on her Mom,frequently on her sisters,and later, sometimes on her..

The cry of the stork echoesfrom the cold cliff where the mistis clearing for an hour or twothis winter morningso that when nature has found a..

We're living just as the century begins.A great leaf, that God and weshall cover with our writingturns now, overhead, in strange hands.We feel the..

Unending one, you’ve shown myself to me.In the place you wrote into beingwhere the image of God made Manand the image of Man made Godmeet – there, in..

You came back to the USA, but you never made it home...and yet, you're still aroundfor us to meet and greet and thankor try to avoid, or to forget,or..

these late autumn daysleaves fall like poemsgreen as new thoughtsyellow as wisdomred as late summer lovebrown as old speechdry as the pastthese late..

This is a disposable poem.Under each stanzais a perforated line- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -you may read it stanza by stanzaand throw..

The EX IT sign in the Town Hall Theatrewas lit by gas. A smell you never quite forget.It serves to pin the memories of those other times.The sister..

Sit here, in the entrance hall whichthey've cleaned to spotless in the vacationand watch them arrive,early, one by one;that's much more fun to..

As some sun-ripened vineyard-owner, richin slow maturing wisdom gained through time,before that noble rot of trodden grapeyields untold harvest of a..

(to the tune of The Blue Danube)TheTwo-Left- Feet Waltz…left...nowwhat do I do?TheTwo-Left-Feet Waltz…left...I’mfeeling blue, too..TheTwo-Left-Feet..