More water in it, once, the Rio Grande - even rapids roughed its winding run through what was wall-less desert. On its southern side, where ...

The downy woodpecker clings to the suet cage, helps itself to an easy meal after unsuccessful drumming on the lilac. Breaking news loops thr...

When the young squirrel stood up on its hind legs and immediately fell over on its side, I thought: rabies. The Animal Control Officer’s lin...

The old Armory, built to resemble a medieval castle but undergoing renovations that fall, was imprisoned in a cage of scaffolding, and impri...

          “Mystery ailment killing ducks at Virginia Lake”           — Reno Gazette-Journal, July 25, 1986 The summer our household came apa...

We’re almost lovers, though nothing has happened—if nothing is the way his words hold me close as kiss, as touch of thighs. We’ve talked ab...

Awaiting demolition The vacant house sags tiredly on its lot Cracked windowpanes stare defeatedly at a bulldozer Creeping steadily forward ...

This afternoon I rebuild a house, a street, and your body, leaving out the sickroom, the neighbor’s wakeful dog, the blur in your lung. I ad...

Autumn leaves fall like unfulfilled dreams or unspoken wishes as Canada geese honk overhead, engaging the V formation with a lone straggler ...

          Mount Saviour Monastery, February 2020 The pasture snow is bright as an unmarked page as I saunter past after a morning at the des...

I see you in the new suburban branch library on a hot July afternoon like the ones when we were kids and came home early from the pool to vi...

          -Inspired by Franz Marc's painting of the same name dancing in flame around a towering cedar, fearless bookends. No moon call...

          -Inspired by Franz Marc's painting of the same name Dearest Prince, When my Dresden letter to you returned today, I was distre...

The white pony died on a January night, it might have been below 0, no snow, just one of those clear, cold-snap nights. He died where he lik...

          For Dick Bogue Knowing it was his last night, he didn’t eat or drink because he knew his bladder and his bowels would empty. He wi...

Rhythmic sweep of the sprinkler in early morning, stuttering breath as it swipes across ragged grass, honeysuckle, ladders leaning on the we...

Your preschool art projects: Hand-painted tiles, clumsy clay pots brought home for Mother’s Day A box of books you made in kindergarten A lo...

I have given my sister's name to the stateliest, most graceful in a row of sycamore trees. I wade through damp grass in muffled sunlight...

My father was pushing 82 - the same age as I am now - when he went to sleep and never woke up. When I succumb to sleep in the darkness I am...

and pauses between hauling canvases across the rough floorboards to watch from the doorway as a bus brakes at the curb outside, exhales and ...