After Adam Zagajewski I am child to no one, mother to a… wife for the long haul. On fall days I am happy with my dying brethren, the leaves…

I married you for all the wrong re… charmed by your dangerous family h… by the innocent muscles, bulging l… weapons under your shirt, by your… the colors of painted scraps of su…

Because the shad are swimming in our waters now, breaching the skin of the river with their

I remember what my father told me: There is an age when you are most… He was just past fifty then, Was it something about the trees t… There is an age when you are most…

Finding a new poet is like finding a new wildflower out in the woods. You don’t see its name in the flower books, and nobody you tell believes

I want to write you a love poem as headlong as our creek after thaw when we stand

Into the gravity of my life, the serious ceremonies of polish and paper and pen, has come this manic animal

I sing a song of the croissant and of the wily French who trick themselves daily back to the world

Perhaps the purpose of leaves is t… the verticality of trees which we… as if for the first time: row afte… yearning upwards. And since we wil… ourselves for so long, let us now…

January Contorted by wind, mere armatures for ice or snow, the trees resolve to endure for now,

The gathering family throws shadows around us, it is the late afternoon Of the family. There is still enough light

We invent our gods the way the Greeks did, in our own image’€”but magnified. Athena, the very mother of wisdom, squabbled with Poseidon

Some say it was a pear Eve ate. Why else the shape of the womb,

We think of hidden in a white dres… among the folded linens and sachet… of well-kept cupboards, or just ou… sending jellies and notes with no… to all the wondering Amherst neigh…