#282: On the Last Day of National Poetry Writing Month, The Poet Speaks of Things that Happen Over and Over Again

Days go by, and they keep going by constantly pulling you into the future. –Laurie Anderson.   For starters, days go by one right after another, but today, during meditation, I held my father’s hand one last time before they wheeled him into surgery on the eve of his last day on the planet 7Continue reading “#282: On the Last Day of National Poetry Writing Month, The Poet Speaks of Things that Happen Over and Over Again”

#269: A Letter of Gratitude to My Wife and Son (another prose poem)

Dear family, I am about to begin my journey home. Almost everything is put away and the trailer is hitched up (I never did unhitch); all I have to do now is climb in and start up the engine. It was a good trip. Even though I was with my brother and his friends, I spentContinue reading “#269: A Letter of Gratitude to My Wife and Son (another prose poem)”

#230: A Poem of Gratitude

Happy Thanksgiving, America. Here’s a skinny but long list of things for which I am grateful: It’s not January. I could do without the heavy rain making a mud bath of the lawn, but at least, the leaves are finally out of the yard. My son is healthy and, as far as I can tell, happy.Continue reading “#230: A Poem of Gratitude”

A Single Dispatch from Writer’s Camp on the 40th Anniversary of the MFA Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College

First of all, I was sick with a cold when at 10:30 pm I boarded the plane for a red-eye from Portland to Atlanta, a nearly five hour flight through most of which I would be sneezing and blowing and stuffing kleenex into my own private trash bag that I kept discreetly stuffed into theContinue reading “A Single Dispatch from Writer’s Camp on the 40th Anniversary of the MFA Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College”