You clasp this hand ( Read more... )

Why does all seem to be ( Read more... )

I was listening to public radio on my way over to a friend's house last night and was entranced by an interview with the poet Kay Ryan, who I've discovered (after some brief internet research) is one of our poet laureates. I am unsurprised; She read the below poem on the radio and the last line hit me straight in the heart. She spoke it, and I ( Read more... )

Like the ache
of stubbing a toe,
a metaphor we used
just the other night;

First comes
a gasp, a muttered curse,
Then the pain advances
Inexorably.

They whirl me, twist and turn, these memories ( Read more... )

I got a little two-man family ( Read more... )