First Known When Lost

The time has come, dear readers, to return to my "April poem."  It is part of a group which includes my May poem (" The Trees...

The poems that move us the most have an inexpressible mystery at their heart.  This is a dogmatic proposition that I cannot hope to defend o...

When I looked out the front window on Saturday morning, I saw a few dozen sailboats out on Puget Sound.  The spring racing season has begun....

A poem that has moved us stays with us, and often returns of its own accord.  Long ago, I cannot remember when and where, I purchased a coll...

Today was sunny yet cool, a day of amber-yellow angled light and of tree shadows stretching across bright green fields.  Walking beneath the...

Around the middle of the week before last, I read this:           Heaven-Haven       A nun takes the veil      I have desired to go   ...

In this part of the world, one must learn to embrace greyness and inclemency.  Otherwise, you may find it difficult to venture beyond your d...

I began this series of posts back in August of 2010.  I neglected to note at the outset of the series that I am completely unqualified to pr...

As human beings, we are adept (more or less) at putting things into words.  It is what we do.  Hence, for instance, poetry.  It has been arg...

As I have noted here in the past, I am not one to make New Year's resolutions.  Still, the turning of the year is an appropriate time to...