First Known When Lost

There is something to be said for paring life down to a handful of precepts.  After all, the work has already been done for us over thousand...

The snow began to fall yesterday afternoon.  It fell into the night.  It fell through the night.  This morning, the World was transformed.  ...

A few weeks ago, when it was particularly wet and cold here (as opposed to our standard wetness and coldness), bird sounds nearly vanished f...

I am conservative by nature.  But please take note, dear readers:  that is not  a political statement.  I have no interest whatsoever in the...

A few days ago, a big-leaf maple that I have walked past, and beneath, for nearly 24 years fell in a wind storm.  A friend who follows the s...

The ways in which beauty places itself in our path are manifold and mysterious.  Early this morning, out of the blue, I received this gift: ...

At sunset, on nearly the shortest day of the year, I walked homeward through green, open fields, a row of bare big-leaf maples a few hundred...

In this part of the world, any clear day between November and April is considered a gift.  One feels compelled to walk out into it, for its ...

Is the primary office of poetry to remind us of our mortality?  I sometimes think so.  My thought is prompted by my continued meanderings th...

For the past month or so, I have been reading ancient Greek poetry in translation -- mostly poems from The Greek Anthology , but other lyric...