It started with a smirk she managed to arrest. It returned seconds later in a sneer she pulled back but then it appeared again

Old Tim writes poetry now in his heaven of retirement. He’s had nice jobs over the years but swears retirement is better.

We’re twins. We’ve been together from the start. You’re the doctor. You know that.

After services on Sunday the old Marlboro man puts his Bible under his arm and talks to his pastor through a hole in his neck.

It’s a disgusting thing but Paddy Gilhooley, who knew better as a child, had begun farting in church very early in life. He started in grammar school, many decades ago, long before the ...

Sometimes an egg comes out of a chicken Sometimes a poem comes out of a title Sometimes a chicken

It’s war plain and simple when I fill the feeder out in the sycamore with millet and niger

Although we’ll never again be body to body or mind to mind, you and the place and the years are alive every night in the lette… I’ve stored in my room.

He’s at least 70 now and has never forgotten his childhood. He lives with that child every day… He remembers that Thanksgiving Da… his family had parched field corn

These are old people retired and driving slowly from small apartments in economy cars getting out on canes

Does he remember? Jenny, how could he forget? Thirty years ago you roared into his office and raged about your cousin’s

Gram tells Stella on the phone her neighborhood is full of old fo… She hasn’t seen Stella in 60 year… and won’t see her again because of the canyon of miles between the…

There are poems everywhere but you have to find them, a teacher told my class long ago. I was a kid sitting at a desk, cowlicks sprouting from my scalp,

She walks the rack of bright frock… as her husband, an Angus aging, paws at the carpet behind her. She wants the right dress to make verdant again the hills

He publishes poems by writers who find no publishers elsewhere. They suffer rejection and he gives them hope.