Every day the same play. The moment I rise, the first act begins, the same plot

White privilege it’s called and re… I learned its name although I’ve… white as a sheet for decades. Like breathing and eating I take white privilege for granted.

A reporter asked Wilbur once if there were any advantages to being deaf and Wilbur used sign language to say not that he could think of

In the glow of the porch light one moth a final fandango nowhere to go

It was her birthday. She was only five the dawn we went out to look at roses in Grandma’s garden

The tale’s a parable and it scares Bill more than any creepy clown hiding behind a tree

Sleet on the turnpike in the middle of the night but I keep driving, both hands on the wheel, nowhere to pull off,

As autumn turns colder there’s only one moth fluttering at midnight around the porch light. He’s the last of the flock

There’s a glorious sound system no… in the restored train depot where… from all over the nation once took… train to Camp Breckinridge before taking a plane to Korea.

Old Tim writes poetry now in his heaven of retirement. He’s had nice jobs over the years but swears retirement is better.

Through the nursery glass Carlos Montero peeks at Consuela, his twelfth, in the arms of a nurs… Pink as a peony with brilliant black hair,

The blind artist paints life as he wants it to be a tranquil sky a big sun smiling everyone laughing.

Let me be a star and shine in places darkness dwells or let me be a bell and ring in places

You won’t find poetry anywhere unless you bring some of it with y… said Joseph Joubert, a French writer whose day job was working for Napoleon.