A Poem for My Uncle Larry

The bridge to my son is difficult — An assembly of quirks, twitches, snatches of Television dialog laid out and lashed together with Green and blue pills taken once daily. There are Boards missing, replaced with acronyms; Plans written down, filed and Forgotten. He could be an island entire and to himself. But Uncle Larry…

Welcome!

“The man turns and there — / his solitary track stretched out / upon the world.”   from “Blizzard” by William Carlos Williams (Read the full poem)

Before the Throne Room

Last winter I had the pleasure of attending the AWP Writer’s Conference in Washington DC. Having just been to D.C. last spring on a family vacation, I had already seen many of the museums and monuments, but my hotel was within blocks of one that hadn’t made our list last spring, The National Portrait Gallery…

The Parable of the Ferns and Hosta

Next to a sturdy brick building, a tree was planted long ago. It grew tall and strong, but the landscape designers–untrained in botany or horticulture–planted it too close to the drainage grate. The tree was to them another piece of medium rather than a living, growing thing. And so every spring the nearby building would…