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Articles
Winter Smoke
From the stack outside the window’s frame,White smoke, mostly steam, breaks hard acrossA bright blue square of winter sky.It tumbles in gusts, and its knots untieThen vanish in air....
In A Field Of Weeds
“Man is but a reed, the weakest in nature, but he is a thinking reed.” —Pascal, Pensées Five degrees. Rough, shifting winds. Sunlight crashing Almost audibly, sky to snow-pack,...
Olive Bed
“There was a bole of an olive tree with long leaves growing Strongly in the courtyard, and it was thick, like a column. I laid down my chamber around...
When Lilacs Shake
Now, in April, when lilacs shake in gusts of rain, the crown-like buds Waving thick and green on sceptre tips, I ask myself: What have we been. We two curled tight in winter’s...
