Category Archives: poetry

Evening Out — Of Sorts

A friend and I stand in the high school parking lot, watching our daughters finish soccer practice on the field. At least, I say as the girls walk towards us, laughing and talking, they’ve had one practice. That’s where we … Continue reading

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Teenagers Recite Poems

Reluctantly, my daughter drags herself to a required high school poetry recitation. While I chat with parents I haven’t seen in ages, I see her laughing with a boy she’s known since third grade. Adolescents and poetry — how fun! … Continue reading

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Left the Shoes on the Back Porch…

After a day of brilliant sunshine, rain moves in during the night. My daughters’ cats, in the screened windows, wake me with their hungry mewing, against the background chorus of steady rainfall and birdsong. Arriving home from work, I see … Continue reading

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Déjà Vu Hiking and a Warbler

In Plainfield, Vermont, my daughter and I start up a wide hiking road, after a discussion about why I so frequently fail to read directions — and yet, as I pointed out, I generally arrive where I’ve planned to go. This … Continue reading

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Love Of

For no other reason except sheer pleasure, magnetic poetry reemerged in our lives…. And sometimes one sentence is enough.

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Teen Somersaults

The rain cleared in the early evening, and my daughter and I hung out on her trampoline while she waited for her friend. She’s a pro; I’m a novice. Eventually, I lay back and stared at the clouds breaking apart, … Continue reading

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Shape of May

I always imagine Medieval life as so much field around all those storied castles. In May, the Vermont landscape is wide open. The forest aren’t leafed out yet. The bushes are sticks without greenery. The shape of the land is … Continue reading

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Sacred Spring

T. S. Eliot who famously wrote April is the cruelest month did not live in Vermont, where we have much crueler seasons. Like January. Yesterday, on my way from work to a grant-writing workshop, I returned home and changed from a … Continue reading

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Duck Joy

My daughter calls two ducks besides the April-fat river Mrs. and Mr. Duck — Out For an Evening Swim. A brown female the hue of last year’s fallen leaves. The male’s garish, jade head reminds me of the unmistakable hue … Continue reading

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Drop by Drop

This hopeful holiday is paired with tiny spring blossoms — crocuses, grape hyacinths, glories of the snow — and early morning services in the cemetery beside our house. Yesterday, at Quechee Gorge in the pouring rain, we stop in at … Continue reading

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