poem of the day

in blackwater woods

Every year everything I have ever learned in my lifetime leads back to this: the fires and the black river of loss whose other side is salvation, whose meaning none of us will ever know. To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold [...]

happy thirty-six

love after love the time will come when, with elation, you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror, and each will smile at the other’s welcome, and say, sit here. eat. you will love again the stranger who was your self. give wine. give bread. give back your heart to [...]

i touch the future. i teach.

twenty-five years ago today, i was sitting in mr. quincy’s fifth grade class. on a media cart at the front of the classroom was a television broadcasting the launch of the space shuttle challenger, carrying it’s crew of seven. among them was christa mcauliffe, who was to be the first teacher in space. in an [...]

twenty nine | year three

time she is not waiting. not quite. it is more that the years mean nothing to her any more, that the dreams and the street cannot touch her. she remains on the edges of time, implacable, unhurt, beyond, and one day you will open your eyes and see her, and after that, the dark. it [...]

four | year three

fire and ice some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. from what i’ve tasted of desire i hold with those who favor fire. but if it had to perish twice, i think i know enough of hate to say that for destruction ice is also great, and would suffice. (robert [...]

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