Waiting for Words to Whisper in the Dark

At a recent event at the Katharine Cornell Theatre I was crowned Martha’s Vineyard poet laureate, succeeding Lee McCormack. I was given a two-year term, a plastic laurel wreath and a toga.

Ode to Nancy Luce

Bless the poet/with the chickens/Bless the woman wracked/with pain

National Book Award Nominee Lets the Music Lead the Words

Fanny Howe, whose latest book of poetry, Second Childhood, was nominated for the National Book Award, suggests that readers not try to understand her poems but rather just listen to the music of the words and images. Her collection centers around "the convergence between old age and childhood."

Gay Head Light

Gay Head Light

In Memoriam: Todd Follansbee

Nothing gay this gray morning.
The salt-sprayed trees

and bushes bend over
like scared students,
tested by a towering teacher —

all brick, iron and glaring
glass — missing nothing.

The Pull-By

I have learned a new word, a noun, the pull-by.

Bass Fishing At Squibnocket

I stand as the black water

Of each wave’s backwash

Hugs my hip boots

Making little stars of light

The fish-filled night.

Early on I was hoping for a strike

Of some huge striped bass to fight,

But now, to hell with fishing,

I would rather stand here casting.

Thaw

The ground is thawing. And now the sun has reached an angle of amber upon the bees.

Town Memories

Will I grow old and hang around the shop Will young guys come to pick my brain and use my tools

Flight Home from LAX

LAX creates somniacs or worse. Promised wifi is a lie. We lay to wait connection, a continuation home.

A Tribute to Pathways

Winter solstice was hardly a comfort, for those of us who suffer from SAD while enduring our endless days fading daylight.

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