No one will say it, but we know
today’s fresh-flamed hibiscus flower
reveals in one brief, glorious show
our birth, our life, our final hour.
Sacrament and synecdoche
live in a pot near the atrium door,
mirroring holy brevity
which, in a day, is evermore.
—Jane Greer
Christmas Spectacles, Good and Bad
This year marks the Radio City Rockettes’ one hundredth anniversary, and the annual Christmas Spectacular at Radio…
Harvard Loses a Giant
Two weeks ago, Prof. James Hankins gave his last lecture at Harvard before his departure to University…
When Life Ends Mid-Sentence
It was Gerstäcker’s mother. She held out her trembling hand to K. and had him sit down…