Lost by David Wagoner Stand still.  The trees ahead and bushes beside you Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here, ...

My Meadow by Hayden Carruth Well, it's still the loveliest meadow in all Vermont. I believe that truly, yet for years have hardly s...

I like horses.  I like their long noses, their ridiculous taught bodies, their sharp horsey smell.  (Am I still describing horses right n...

    Eagle Poem by Joy Harjo To pray you open your whole self To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon To one whole voice that is yo...

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...