When, at the end, the children wanted to add glitter to their valentines, I said no. I said nope, no, no glitter, and then, when they started to fuss, I found myself saying something…
“I have a different story to tell at 75 than I did at 25. Fifty years makes a difference and so if there’s a poet listening to us right now, one of the things…
The last of these neighborhood roses and these words: “Here is the medicine: That though the heart is breaking, happiness can exist in a moment, also. And because the moment in which we live…
The first of the neighborhood roses and these words: 1 Only now, in spring, can the place be named: tulip poplar, daffodil, crab apple, dogwood, budding pink-green, white-green, yellow on my knowing. All winter…
Faye and flowers and these words: …These obligations sometimes frustrated Carson, but not half as much as they frustrate her biographers. For Lear, the author of “Rachel Carson: Witness for Nature” (1997) and the…
Curious Silas and an excerpt from the loveliest springtime poem, in honor of National Poetry Month: Every few minutes, he wants to march the trail of flattened rye grass back to the house of…
A bit of spring, and an encouraging perspective on a big challenge: “We believe the invisible hand is making businesses behave soullessly; that under capitalism, especially late-stage capitalism, there’s an inevitability to every sad-but-profitable…
A self-portrait from a week-day afternoon. And this: Welcome to the end of being alone inside your mind You’re tethered to another and you’re worried all the time You always know the melody but…
February puddles from a moment I took just for myself. And this: “‘For Ahkeem,’ along with ‘Quest,’ and ‘Step,’ reminds white audiences that it is not enough to agree that black lives matter, but…
January raindrops in a quiet minute I took just for myself. And this: “I feel a certain obligation to sort of stand up and be counted as a woman who has had kids and…