Tempted to hit the brakes – but the hamburger joint where Gary and I ate last March has closed. Not all tombstones are hewn from granite, be...

new calendar, same old dreams of broken reading glasses and unpaired shoes with somewhere important to be five minutes ago -- the last final...

Tonight, the moon is      a white chrysanthemum and a lone cricket is squeaking out a sad country           tune on a broken fiddle. Jason R...

laminated roadmap folded in glove box your fingers trace along black lines tethered to orange dots taking all the blame for leading us astra...

A small house with a broken, red back door. The radio station on in the morning. Cheap cigarettes and stale coffee by the window. You kept m...

          The photograph is concerned           with the power that the past           has to interfere with the present:           the time...

Lt. Wilfred Owen, in a letter home, described the front with the license of a modern poet as smelling “like the breath of cancer.” And as Si...

The sepia photo of my great grandparents is their only record beyond their headstones. I imagine the soft flesh of her wrists, her ginger ha...

Ask the pallbearers fifteen years after carrying the closed casket of a murdered friend. Feel the hasty flinch even when your hand          ...

The trivet, with its pretty picture of that curative plant, is among my takeaways from the long-ago divorce. It rests on a table; often I lo...

If that Federal-style house on Route 107 ever aspires to B&B, “Twin Oaks” is what it will call itself. The pair out front have been toge...

A coyote follows the brown hen from the neighbor’s yard as she traipses across our property, breaks her neck as she bends to pick up the pop...

A royal family in Polynesia was gifted a tortoise hatchling by the explorer Captain Cook. For 188 years this reliable creature hauled itself...

The dog sits by the door below the hooks where jackets and scarves, raincoats and a leash hang in a tumble of color. The dog is curled on th...

Because the sun is shining, we ignore the forecast, ignore the gathering clouds we can't identify by name: cumulous? cumulonimbus? Nor d...

A squirrel monopolizes the feeder, eating as if the cylinder were filled solely for its nourishment although the seeds are labeled "Wil...

I mistake the small moth, wings folded, unmoving, for a bit of dried leaf stem in the basin; but when I reach to remove it, it opens its win...

the others are sleeping. through a slit in the curtain you watch the rain. past midnight, it peters off like an ellipsis, the silence betwee...

You stagger on the stepping stone, losing strength in autumn’s chill. At times you tumble over on your back, and struggle to right yourself ...

Grandpa knew the best places to gather bundles of dandelion leaves to feed his family. He bypassed easier pickings closer to home, trash-pol...