Can the ravens hear poetry in the gray wind or sighs in the night?
Springfield, Illinois, is a Lincoln-haunted town, and much of the old downtown has a Lincoln association of some sort or another. But more than Lincoln has happened there.
A poem written for a yoga class relates the experience of meditating on a raisin and the transformative potential in contemplating raisinness.
This excerpt from an epic retelling of the Christian biblical narrative offers a poetic interpretation of the traditional Christmas advent story.
A short poem on hiking: One foot in front, then the other.
With a little sip of coffee and a big swig of delight I would mix you with my grounds, tell you what I’ve found as you worm your way inside my dogbeatened heart.
A poetic contemplation of a moment caught in a snapshot before a young woman’s life took a cruel turn.
On this sad day of remembrance, I wonder what the seagull recalls from these same crystal blue skies.
1980 we spent the entire year, all twelve months, on the avocado ranch. It was our magical time in paradise. We were alive then with youth, not quite knowing how happy we were.
A short review of The Narrow Road to the Deep North and Other Travel Sketches by renowned seventeenth-century Japanese poet Matsuo Bashō.
Is creativity merely a function of the body as a biological organism, or is there something more, a transcendental muse that inspires and guides creativity?
I recently came across my earliest publications, a collection of forgettable poems that made their way into several small literary journals.