#Americans #Women
I married you for all the wrong re… charmed by your dangerous family h… by the innocent muscles, bulging l… weapons under your shirt, by your… the colors of painted scraps of su…
We invent our gods the way the Greeks did, in our own image’but magnified. Athena, the very mother of wisdom, squabbled with Poseidon
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…
January Contorted by wind, mere armatures for ice or snow, the trees resolve to endure for now,
Into the gravity of my life, the serious ceremonies of polish and paper and pen, has come this manic animal
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
It was early May, I think a moment of lilac or dogwood when so many promises are made it hardly matters if a few are bro… My mother and father still hovered
Because the shad are swimming in our waters now, breaching the skin of the river with their
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…
I remember what my father told me: There is an age when you are most… He was just past fifty then, Was it something about the trees t… There is an age when you are most…
The gathering family throws shadows around us, it is the late afternoon Of the family. There is still enough light
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…
I want to write you a love poem as headlong as our creek after thaw when we stand
I sing a song of the croissant and of the wily French who trick themselves daily back to the world