for Soriya I wander in her forest / hearing ankle bells jingle with each step,/ the universe at her feet and hands./ I want to touch her./ She flies in my house in paintings/ with petals of orange blossom raining from the/ ceiling./ With her ...

My partner wants me to write them a poem about Sheryl Crow/ but all I want to do is marry them on a beach that refuses to take itself too seriously. Overtime I have learned that a love is most astonishing/ when it persists after learning where we com...

We were alone one night on a long road in Montana. This was in winter, a big night, far to the stars. William Stafford In the Winter of 1998, I drove across North Dakota and Idaho to live in Bellingham, Washington—a 2,300-mile journey across Win...

I'll tell you a half-dozen things/ that happened to me/ in Indiana/ when I went that far west to teach./ You tell me if it was worth it./ I lived in the country/ with my dog— part of the bargain of coming./ And there was a pond/ with fish from, I t...