Archive
More than thirty-five years of First Things articles at your fingertips
Articles
On an Iced Handrail
Sunlight coruscates the ice and glitters, turning the chipped, green handrail to a ray of emerald only on display…
Rime Ice
He wouldn’t say her memory was lost But that she was lost in it—the foggy past Clung to her and calcified to frost Until, at last, her very present...
Listening to Timkat
I follow her story only in part, like a man looking from a lit room at dark hills, silhouetted against navy skies— his own staring face superimposed by a...
