Red Doors * by Joe Bueter The smell some nights _____ could’ve simply been the marsh. _ ____ Or crustaceans and bacon grease. Once in...

We Three by Rumi My love wanders the rooms, melodious, flute notes, plucked wires, full of a wine the Magi drank on the way to Beth...

Dad's day card, 2011 My husband, like many people in his family, has enormous hands.  His dad is a carpenter, and his uncle, who al...

The Uses of Light by Gary Snyder It warms my bones                say the stones I take it into me and grow Say the trees Leaves above Root...

The River Poem by Eric Vithalani * it is always the story, in the river, the moon destroyed by falling leaves and then reborn....

For Tony When you ask for a sip   of the holy water I carry   in my backpack like an offering   to a minor god, tucked   beneath...

Loving the Flesh by Todd Davis Last night I lay beside you, unable to sleep, and read the stories written on the cells by one who long ago ...