A YEAR IN POEMS 3/24/2021

“Driving a cardboard automobile without a license at the turn of the century my father ran into my mother on a fun-ride at Coney Island having spied each other eating in a French boardinghouse nearbyAnd having decided right there and then that she was for him...

NOTES FROM AN ISLAND Day 365 – 3/23/2021

A year ago, the mandate went out for Dallas to go indoors. Masks came out and toilet paper disappeared as if by magic. Restaurants struggled to figure out how to provide take out for an entire city. A huge and desperate calm settled over the entire Metroplex. Now,...

A YEAR IN POEMS 3/21/2021

 “The birds were louder this morning,raucous, oblivious, tweeting their teensy bird-brains out.It scared me, until I remembered it’s Spring.How do they know it? A stupid question.Thank you birdies. I had forgotten how promise feels.” Michael Ryan, “Spring...

A YEAR IN POEMS 3/20/2021

 “The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.” Earnest Lawrence...