Poetry

Crisply the bright snow whispered, Crunching beneath our feet; Behind us as we walked along…

There is a good kind of waiting which trusts the agents of fermentation. There is…

Everything is beautiful and I am so sad. This is how the heart makes a…

The year has rocked this world to its roots. What if for one day each…

It is a kind of love, is it not? How the cup holds the tea,…

Hokusai says look carefully. He says pay attention, notice. He says keep looking, stay curious….

A pitcher of lemonade Sunday newspaper scattered Like leaves on the floorboards My best friend…

after a line from William Stafford When the leaves are about to yellow and fall…

Life was following its own sacred rhythm, when, suddenly, an accident interrupted the flow, changing…

Horses galloping on the hill—bright sun, blue sky, joy on an autumn morning. Gensei says,…

What a person desires in life is a properly boiled egg. This isn’t as easy…

We could point our attention anywhere – summer leaning into its most ambitious month, the…

I will praise my failures. I will praise What I have not accomplished and do…

—misheard line from a poem by Fernando Pessoa Be a blue whale with a heart…

The trees bend down along the stream, Where anchored swings my tiny boat. The day…

You know from their deeply grooved bark they hold marvelous stories. They are taller than…

Between waves, under the moon’s light, after the passing of your smile into memory when…

There are ghosts in this garden. Our younger selves whisper about what we have become,…

The river is famous to the fish. The loud voice is famous to silence, which…

I try to look at the big picture. The sun, ardent tongue licking us like…