Can I be too ____ to write these days? Too set, too predictable, too enjambed in my ways, offering too few new words to everyone else, ol...

(from the NaPoWriMo prompt: write a poem inspired by your favorite kind of music.)[So, two things: 1) a friend asked me the other day abo...

Sitting by the glass doors my back porch beyond sipping coffee and waiting for my whole wheat English muffins— that I made after watching...

To say that March has been difficult would be, of course, a gross understatement. The world has ended and we are just starting to figure ...

Celebrate World Poetry Day! https://www.un.org/en/observances/world-poetry-day

Last night one too many Irish coffees & dithering about plans for today Sun rise, deep fog in the trees black brown red fingers pointing ...

cold mornings when my bare feet slip on the bathroom’s tiled floor and robins preen in front of our porch a deer starts in the yard when ...

There is a pin oak behind my house leaning west over the porch. In the right season, acorns begin dropping on the bleached, green-flushin...

>Thank you, James (www.jamesbrandess.com/@jamesbrandess) for the inspiration and the art. You help us all to define "Saugatuck." I know a...

(Or: On Being Married to a Struggling Writer During National Poetry Writing Month) I said to him: This prompt is hard. How am I supposed ...

Materials 1 sheet black paper 1 pin 1 lamp, shade optional 1 small ball or orb, 3-5 inches in diameter Instructions Take a sheet of jet-b...

(Here is my official return to focusing on So Many Fishes, a collection I am trying to finish by December. Thanks for reading!) I can hea...

The hardest part of writing is writing. I knew that this blog would challenge me, but why was I so out of my mind that I thought I could ...

The sandhill cranes silver white fighter bombers in electro-trilling V-formations are returning and in town the ice cream shop windows ar...

It’s on my grocery list but I’ll probably find a way to forget it or I’ll forget the list itself and pull an old tissue from my pocket wh...

It occured to me, one recent frozen morning, that when I wake with a song I have not heard in years stuck in my head— trilling off my ton...