How Spring Arrives

The very last snow, gritty and cruel as the wrinkles scarred in the corners of a fanatic’s month, has disappeared overnight. Eternal winter was merely yesterday… Two Moments in Rome. James Wright

Language is fossil poetry.

Language is fossil poetry. Ralph Waldo Emerson  When I haven’t written in a while I almost fear starting again…the anxiety starts “what if I’m not good enough.” Or “everything has been said before” I wonder is my voice necessary? And then I read some really good writing and think that yes, every voice is necessary.… Continue reading Language is fossil poetry.

And the dirt…

These days whatever you have to say, leave the roots on, let them dangle And the dirt Just to make clear where they come from Charles Olsen After being in a paperwork coma for the last few weeks, I emerge to see the first golden crocus in the garden and the sweet green starts of… Continue reading And the dirt…