Category Archives: Poetry

A second, minute, hour, day or week is like a bauble strung upon a cord in graduated range, each bead discrete, but all together grouped and tending toward a bracelet, necklace, anklet, rosary, in purposeful arrangement of its parts. So … Continue reading →

I had to count the Spanish Steps in Rome (I vote with those who say one thirty eight). And even when I travel close to home, I count the steps to train from ticket gate. I chant how many paces … Continue reading →

My husband used the word velocitized: the way a passenger is lulled to doze. The driver is awake, with focused eyes, attentive ears, no senses in repose. It seems the pilot has to be in gear along with the machine … Continue reading →

As sweet as infant laughter is, the scream of little kid frustration agitates the afternoon and undermines the dream of harmony that kinship incubates. They’re harsh and selfish little guys, but cute as cherubim. Their heads are big, their arms … Continue reading →

The children look too much like him for me to ever doubt their shared paternity (as if I could! I paid attention then to all my copulations with the men). But here’s a rub I didn’t contemplate when I at … Continue reading →

I should be in my study as I start a poem about a bookcase dear to me. But while I write I travel south on BART, and arrow west to the vicinity of office furniture: pale gray, matte black, veneers … Continue reading →