The Air is Cold
9:20 AM Israeli time, and we step out of the hotel, into a beautiful bright (they mostly are) day. The […]
Poems
Poems
Poems
Why We Can’t Use Roundup On Our Lawn
1. As a girl, the black-branched plums behind the far fence were mine because a giant row of nettle and
Poems
The Late Mr. Crowbait
On a frigid Saturday morning in late January, He stepped outside his first yawn, Into a cerulean translucency Enshrouding a
Poems
These Wild Turkeys
For my own part I wish the Bald Eagle had not been chosen the Representative of our Country. He is
Poems
Hurricane Bob
Even hours after Hurricane Bob— the Wrath of Bob— made its pitiful midnight landfall thirty or so miles down the