Schemes, Dreams, and Some Thoughts on Poetry
Daffodils, 1950
On a country road not far from where I live, there's a house I never notice except in the spring.
Running: A Love Story
I don't see myself as a runner. I don’t have the stretchy body that real runners have or a deep need to push myself off the cliff of my physical abilities.
The Road to the Dump: A Love Story
To get to the county dump, I take Mount Sharon Road. It’s a quiet country lane lined with farmland and mountain views. In the late afternoon, the light is fantastic.
The Poetry of Loneliness, Part 1
In this era of ever-escalating communication, hardly anyone is truly alone anymore.