#Americans #Women
My husband gives me an A for last night’s supper, an incomplete for my ironing, a B plus in bed. My son says I am average,
When they taught me that what matt… was not the strict iambic line goo… over the page but the variations in that line and the tension produ… on the ear by the surprise of diff…
When I taught you at eight to ride a bicycle, loping along beside you as you wobbled away
Perhaps the purpose of leaves is t… the verticality of trees which we… as if for the first time: row afte… yearning upwards. And since we wil… ourselves for so long, let us now…
January Contorted by wind, mere armatures for ice or snow, the trees resolve to endure for now,
Pierre Bonnard would enter the museum with a tube of paint in his pocket and a sable brush. Then violating the sanctity of one of his own frames
I sing a song of the croissant and of the wily French who trick themselves daily back to the world
I have banked the fires of my body into a small but steady blaze here in the kitchen where the dough has a life of its…
Finding a new poet is like finding a new wildflower out in the woods. You don’t see its name in the flower books, and nobody you tell believes
Into the gravity of my life, the serious ceremonies of polish and paper and pen, has come this manic animal
We think of hidden in a white dres… among the folded linens and sachet… of well-kept cupboards, or just ou… sending jellies and notes with no… to all the wondering Amherst neigh…
After Adam Zagajewski I am child to no one, mother to a… wife for the long haul. On fall days I am happy with my dying brethren, the leaves…
The gathering family throws shadows around us, it is the late afternoon Of the family. There is still enough light
We invent our gods the way the Greeks did, in our own image’but magnified. Athena, the very mother of wisdom, squabbled with Poseidon
I want to write you a love poem as headlong as our creek after thaw when we stand