They cannot see that we must lay one brick at a time, take one step at a time. A pebble cast into a pond causes ripples that spread in all directions. Each one of our thoughts, words and deeds is like that. No one has a right to sit down and feel hopeless. There is too much ...
speak to the human spirit’s resilience in the face of sorrow. In these lines, we can reflect on the lives lost, the love that endures, and the soaring hopes of those whose hearts have been broken. Though words may fall short in easing such pain, poetry can help us ...
We could dig two graves near the front gate, place a tombstone at the head of each one and then put the neighbor’s name on one and his wife’s on the other Then we could take a photo of the graves and the tombstones and have it delivered to them with a note that said, We’re...
to prove that he and his buddy had passed the various tests that feminists may throw at them. The party invite had jokingly mentioned that no sex pests were allowed into our glittery home. The certificate
(they/them) has long held in great esteem the American poet Marianne Moore. She referred to herself as her brother’s brother and insisted that her close family referred to her (he/him) with the masculine pronoun. Her/his/(their?)Poetryaims to “present for inspection, imaginary gardens ...
Oh, we fell asleep in the gardens again, didn’t we? I was counting clouds and you were giving them names and it got dark without us knowing it. Our dresses must be soaked through with dew. Odd, I feel so … dry. We’ve got to get back to the palace. The countess must be ang...
But then itisthe flower of remembrance, and is traditionally associated with death and graves. January, the dead of winter, therefore seems to be the fitting season for it to blossom, although I believe it flowers most of the year in its native mediterranean region. ...
The building has been the subject of a number of tours that I have conducted to it since 2018. A lot more interesting on the inside than it is from the outside, it features an old lift that should not be missed. Retrofitted in 1929, the lift was used to carry children suffering from...
Summer Gardens: Poetry Afew lines from the close of “A Summer Garden” by Louise Glück: She sat on a bench, somewhat hidden by oak trees. Far away, fear approached and departed; from the train station came the sound it made. The sky was pink and orange, older because the day was ...