Poem, snippets and essays of my life

Category: Poetry

  • Our Front Hall

    Our Front Hall

    Our Front Hall Our front hall had a very tall grandfather clock at the foot of the stairs keeping watch over the household. No one could wind it but my father and the clock defined the nights in regular chimes reaching everyone’s ears in everyone’s bedroom.There was a front hall table made of lustrous mahogany…

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  • Circle Show 4 poems

    https://docs.wixstatic.com/ugd/ee4c72_a392afa35a3147c6ac3eb0ff1daded76.pdf Page 53-56

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  • If I hadn’t asked

    If I hadn’t asked who you were having dinner with that night I wouldn’t be crazy lost now and you wouldn’t have moved to Connecticut with an eyebrowed cooking woman: something I would never be. If I hadn’t asked if you liked sleeping alone maybe we would have grown accustomed to each other sighing into…

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  • The Hard, Cold Snow

    The Coming of the Snow The hard, cold snow is here, The kind that makes you wince. The great, crackling steps one takes that sink unexpectedly, Mother earth reminding you she’s but a heavy footfall away. So a morning walk becomes impossible and the dog, depressed. Your husband reminds you how he loves the winter…

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  • Ode To A Stone

    Ode To A Stone

                                                          Ode to a Stone I was thinking about the loyalty of the round gray stone outside my front door this morning. Preparing patiently to be washed by the rain. Not objecting to an occasional kick and the resulting change of side to the light. The stone sits outside my front door for as long as…

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  • Thanksgiving

    Once, long ago, I wrote a poem on Thanksgiving about a couple who were standing on a stone wall outside their house. They were wearing matching Fairisle sweaters with wreaths around their necks and were in their fifties. A bird swooped down and took the husbands sweater in his mouth and flew away with him. The wife…

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  • Daylight Savings Time

                                                         Daylight Savings Time Winter’s claw is upon us In the local parking lot at five in the afternoon We scuttle for the supermarket doors Sliding open and closed Accepting anyone And back hurriedly out of the marked white lines Heading for home. The dark mountains sigh and fold into their crevices While the roads…

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  • Hurricane on the east coast

    Hurricane Isabel     A hurricane is coming. People behave as if they were members of an ant colony Industriously hauling water, batteries, duct tape, condoms, and Cheerios. Unlike the ants, they are not cooperative; The rise of the wind is commensurate with the level of greed. All the fresh water is gone already and…

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  • Nothing is moving today

    Nothing is moving today. Neither the trees nor the grass Not the top parts of the ocean Nor the blacks birds over the path. Nothing is moving and so we are still. The heat falls onto us mid morning and children lose interest . Remember the sounds of summer: airplanes and barking dogs The Good…

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  • waiting for the view to…

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