The Air Inside The Voice Lesson Searching for air, I mine deep into this cryptic cavern. The coach intones, Breathe! Your air must wind...

waiting in the hospital where they showed the history channel on repeat and I brought a loaf of sourdough bread and a jar of Nutella...

She guessed he felt badly by how he bandaged the knee, checking it daily, taking her mother’s place in the fix-it department. She...

Follow Lourdes When I first saw her standing at the edge of the open grotto the old black woman was just reaching up, touching the lip of...

ready after lunch my eighty nine year old mother asks me to hold a pillow over her face and not take it off until she is dead even if she...

Everyone thought he would retire from the Air Force as a major. After all, he had been at that rank for over twenty years and only had a...

"In “At Sixty-Five,” the speaker says “on my birthday I want nothing but/ more of everything.” Spot on- I want more David Graham poetry. "

If I were still teaching, I would assign this not only to my poetry workshops but to my freshman composition classes as well.

Let's toast the Kates of our families, the odd among our kin..

he left behind his favorite hat a pen for writing a few books and a cat and dog that still look for him

The Lazy Eye The lazy eye slides inward Learning to see aslant. A nuanced vision where no surprise Is unwelcome. The solution is...

A poet will sing how 13 is an unlucky number (no feat of the imagination there). She may even pull out her license and irrationally rhyme

I stare at the passenger seat, I want to reach across and squeeze your hand, lead your peach-juice fingers to my mouth.

I wonder how we leave. How we exit……. this grinding, weeping place?

The night is stark and black like the mysteries of the subconscious.

Today I reached toward a stranger's shoulder blade, your name behind my lips; caught myself, wondering if you still walk

A cool, empty dark, Untouchable for the moment. The mourning doves Still, dreaming. A wind Turning in its sleep. Bleached light of a Shoeles

the day the yard filled with cowbirds, martins and grackles the day I watched the red-headed woodpecker without a mate

American Housewife Go back to 1952 or ’54— your choice— and plug your state-of-the-art vacuum cleaner into the wall. There are the...

For my mother Irish laughter, breaking glass, and where you are now. Perhaps in this book? In the words ‘a figure glided quietly from bed...