Sea Life
someone I thought I knew has been standing on a high bluff for years watching waves drive onto a beach pushed up by unseen shallows pushed…
Forgetting Vowels
Sitting briefly in rooms as weekend guests while the walls and furniture faded with frequent overlooking with being merely checked off dust on window ledges noted…
Cherishing Mother’s Day
Mother remembers what it was like when we were too young to remember After many passages we begin to remember also ours and hers almost matching…
Counted On
young passengers on long car trips would sometimes count birds or fenceposts to fight off boredom the mind making order when it seemed there was only…
Training to Walk the Rim of the World
A stout rope strung a foot off the ground in my neighbor’s yard, stretching from early morning far into the night is for practice. Kafka isn’t…
poems by Rachel Loden
From her collection called Hotel Imperium. not recent, and focused on Nixon, but timely now also…..
Spacing the Alphabet
1. we fish the muddy creeks of ordinaries to see if what we think we’re hungry for attests or churns our current formulary if perch or…
Is This Easter?
We sit together talking quietly on a bench in a crowded mall while around us a strange wild city grows ever stranger fans its thousand pages…
About Good Friday
sitting in traffic, on the way toward some Place that seems to be moving away from us as we approach like a date that never showed…
Paralyzed At An Angle — Fourteen Lines
Poetry is always slightly mysterious, and you wonder what is your relationship to it. Seamus Heaney Rite of Spring by Seamus Heaney So winter closed its…
The Dog Star 