Annie has a nice washing machine n… but she remembers the one her mother had with the wringer, the old-fashioned kind. Her mother took in washing and whe…

Do I write in the third person or only in the first? Do my ideas reign supreme or do other ideas work as well? Do I know I’m always right

If they irritate you and so many do you don’t seek them out until you need them and when you’re through

Every evening, up in my rooom, I try to finish a poem but Chicago is hot and it’s better outside,

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.

A boy, maybe 5, dancing in the candy aisle of a megastore at 6 a.m., a month before Hallowee… is overjoyed by the harvest on every shelf, his caramel skin

Odd fellow who does odd jobs in the neighborhood four seasons of the year has disappeared in high summer and his customers are nervous.

We have a drop-off problem in Ame… We must decide which restroom one can use when nature beckons. So far, tumult reigns among the pe… If we declare both genders equal

After the Spring rain a dove on a Dogwood branch preens like a starlet

The story goes Pa met Ma in the city when he drove a truckload of pigs to market. She was the young waitress who served him cup after cup of coffee and gave him three eggs instead of ju...

They’re starlets Hollywood has yet to discover, two nice young ladies who assemble sandwiches at the Subway Shop Monday through Friday at noon.

I learned a murmuration is a flock of starlings whirling and turning in the sky, changing directions in a second, flying back again, blackening

Never speak ill of the dead, his father always said, and his father was a pastor who preached from the pulpit. That’s why whenever

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