Tag Archives: boston

Spring and All, in the Aftermath

When I was 13 and knew everything, when I was jaundiced as only the very young can be jaundiced, I loved T.S. Eliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. I loved its ennui. I loved the flowing, imaginative, and … Continue reading

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A few notes about April, National Poetry Month, and related or tangential topics

A few notes about April, National Poetry Month, and related or tangential topics: April is the cruelest month because it is neither one thing nor another. Especially in Boston, it is neither the callused braw of midwinter, nor the soft … Continue reading

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Jamaica Pond after sunset

You long for a dark open field– dark skies against the darker land– but you will settle for this, the old pond who spreads always, calm and shining inside its ring of traffic and asphalt Its ribbon of trees bare … Continue reading

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january orange

the pale sky fades from white to yellow to blue whiplash branches black against what glow remains– the sky still light at five o’clock inside the car, pull out an orange dig nails into sun driven north one thousand miles, … Continue reading

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haiku: wild turkeys

three turkeys forage along the side of the road on my way to work

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Day 19: gratitude list

I’ve heard tell that something happens when you just start typing (or writing, as I still prefer composing in longhand) and keep writing. Something begins to flow in your brain. I’ve experienced the most pleasing sensation of flow, so I … Continue reading

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Day 15: moment in the sun

This morning on my daily walk, the woods were bare, barren, still in disarray after Sandy. Branches and whole trees strewn across the trails, the trails themselves obscured under a carpet of rust-colored oak and beech leaves. I’m fortunate enough … Continue reading

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30 Days of Thanks Starts on Day Nine

Forget April. November is the cruelest month for me, mashing rust-colored leaves in the raw days of no-sun clouds. A good month for a long slog, and long slogs are always easier in the company of others. This year, I’ll … Continue reading

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the plant reaches toward the light

marigold meant for marriage by the front door — for luck – grows leggy and strange in its pursuit of the light that falls just short of the door it blooms barely marigold but still blooms                  tiny yellow hearts at … Continue reading

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through the gates, in july, something different

you step through three gates of trees expecting to see something different and you always do today, a turkey almost to the end of the boardwalk through the swamp, just before a stream-bed that’s mostly mud with the one big … Continue reading

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