By any accounting that actually matters to me, I am too old for this shit. But, here we are. It’s summer. It’s getting hot in the northern hemisphere. Arms and legs, shoulders and bellies are all seeing the light of day. And even in my TV-free world, the messages about…

One rainy afternoon, when I was in grade school, Sister Mary Mary* decided to have an impromptu spelling bee. This was absolute music to my ears. In every social measure for preteens of the time, I was lacking. Fat. Awkward. Weird haircut. (Maybe you were that kid too?) But —…

Last year, my annual end-of-year retreat was a 3-day dance meditation held over Zoom. At the time, I was still mostly okay with the isolation, just starting to touch the edges of despair and loneliness. …

There are only two kinds of soundscapes at my mother’s house: silence, or CBS morning news. …

(The month of September, I am reading “My mother’s body” by Marge Piercy every day. I am also coming here as many days as possible to share what happens for me when you visit a poem so often.) I have neglected writing about my experience with this poem — but…

(The month of September, I am reading “My mother’s body” by Marge Piercy every day. I am also coming here as many days as possible to share what happens for me when you visit a poem so often.) I live just down the street from a cemetery. Not just any…

(The month of September, I am reading “My mother’s body” by Marge Piercy every day. I am also coming here as many days as possible to share what happens for me when you visit a poem so often.) The deep, endless caverns of grief and compassion rule today. This is…

I don’t know where the idea originated, but somewhere a friend of mine saw the suggestion of choosing one poem, and reading it every day for a month. I like how words go, and I especially like how poets make words go. …

I used to run lots of races. I was a constant presence in the back of the pack, running for myself, for time, for that good feeling of tired legs at the top of a long hill. When the race ran on trails, the first person to an obstacle would…