Childhood Homes
Where the bushes are now a house once was. See there—where branches are twisted together like skinny arms hugging air? […]
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Awards
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Hitch-Hiking
for my sister I let you do the talking, knew it was your blonde hair blanched white with saltwater They
Awards, Poems, Poetry Prize
Buoy
And so you came to realize that a married man is like a drowning victim, when you find him drenched,
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Pantoum from the Window of the Room Where I Write
At sunset the russet oak turns into a lamp. Each polished leaf glows amber, lit by sun. As a child,
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Empty Souls
Tibetan prayer flags flap in the wind no one to talk to Why Tower Air? I ask as my
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Dear Husband
DEAR HUSBAND Yesterday I swam into the center of a dark star, the farthest point from every other