Another break from the epistles as I continue to slog through this cold.
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poem
Primary season, 2016 (A poem)
Another brief break from the epistles.
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To the tap dancer centre stage (A poem)
Continuing the epistles with another terzanelle.
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Iacta alae est (The die is cast) (A poem)
This poem, about Santos Laboy, who was killed in an encounter with Massachusetts State Police in June 2015, was originally written for the Lament for the Dead website. Since the site is no longer online (it was taken down last October), I thought I would repost. Fortunately, it still counts as an epistle. You can read my original post about the poem here.
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When I want to get up for another cup of coffee, but am too warm and comfortable under the blankets (A poem)
Another small break from my series of epistles, this time largely due to my activities over the last few days.
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Our first date was on Valentine’s Day (A poem)
Back to the epistles again.
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The big blue book, revisited (A poem)
Another small break from my series of epistles. I wrote this while waiting for last night’s reading.
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Lucy (A poem)
The mystery of Lucy, the alarm cat…
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Admonition to my mirror self (A poem)
Back to the epistles, this time in the form of a terzanelle.
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The modern sense of audacity (A poem)
Inspired by the title of an NPR story about Maurice White (R.I.P.)…
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Ordinary Average Thoughts 