The year before we married, Tim and I lived in the attic apartment of an old Victorian home.  On the first floor of that house, a woman I n...

In Spite of Everything, the Stars by Edward Hirsch Like a stunned piano, like a bucket of fresh milk flung into the air or a dozen fists...

The Lives of the Heart by Jane Hirshfield Are ligneous, muscular, chemical. Wear birch-colored feathers, green tunnels of horse-tail reed. ...

Animals by Frank O'Hara Have you forgotten what we were like then when we were still first rate and the day came fat with an apple in i...

"It was just dreadful.  But it was precious, I tell you.  It was my art." -Barry Hannah Dear ones, Do you remember wh...

Spring Hi friends!  It is spring, yes?  A splendid snowy crust lays over the ground.  It is freezing in Eastern Colorado and else...

Good morning little birds!  It is one of Homer's classic rosy-fingered dawns over here today (except, do not say rosy-fingered anyth...