Home Improvements

From the April 2016 Print Edition

M ellow and glowing with autumnal redA nd also ochre striped with golden light,R epainted bedroom with a brand new bedL eft made up, crisp sheets awaiting night;O ld layers overlaid with something fresh,N ew, and sorting out, giving away,C lear for a different union of fleshA nd spirit, window to . . . . Continue Reading »

New City

From the March 2016 Print Edition

Winter strains toward spring.A bird is singing in a leafless tree.The river gleams, the sidewalks glint with iceor with a hint of possibility.A blade of sun bisects the afternoonstreet. In such a slippery spot I fell,righted myself, stood up,and found myself no longer in the winterbut in a city and . . . . Continue Reading »


From the January 2015 Print Edition

To land in a story whose end I do not know— as if we ever saw to any end: I try to keep my balance, high and low. The sliver of this moon, discreet and new— Waxing? Waning? I forget. They blend in a sky whose limits we don’t know. . . . . Continue Reading »

My Mother’s Smile

From the December 2012 Print Edition

Her hair still hardly touched with grey, and wound in gleaming braids around her head, my mother, who in life was not so given to smiling, grinned in last night’s dream from ear to ear the double meaning of archaic smiles: “I am alive” and also “I am dead.” A snapshot from . . . . Continue Reading »

At the Recital

From the November 2011 Print Edition

Word trickled down the aisle that he had died. My first response: how did they even know? Grief was an afterthought. He’d long been gone; had only just sufficiently revived to totter to his feet and say hello (or else goodbye)”impossibly removed, frail, struggling to sit or stand or . . . . Continue Reading »